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INDIA: 


THE 


PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

BY 

MRS.  EMMA  D.  E.  N.  SOUTHWORTH. 

AUTHOR  OF   "THE    HISSING  BRIDE,"  "THE   LOST   HEIRESS,"  "THE    DE- 
SERTED WIFE,"  "THE  WIFE'S  VICTORY,"  ETC. 

Complete  in  one  large  volume,  neatly  bound  in  cloth,  for  One  Dollar  and 
Twenty-Jive  Cents  ;  or  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover,  for  One  Dollar. 

'"INDIA:  THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER,'  taking  it  all  in 
all,  is  the  best  work  Mrs.  Southworth  has  yet  written.  It  is  one 
great  merit  in  her  fictions,  that  they  faithfully  delineate  life  and 
manners,  without  entering  on  vexed  social,  religious,  or  political 
issues.]  In  J^  India,'  the  reader  will  find  a  vivid  delineation  of  the 
South-West.  !  But  this  is  not  all  :  the  characters  are  boldly  drawn, 
the  incidents  natural,  and  the  action  of  the  story  rapid  and  absorb- 
ing. The  two  heroines  are  finely  contrasted.  The  hero  is  a  noble 
creation  ;  strong  of  will,  earnest  in  purpose,  firm  for  the  right,  and 
persevering  to  the  end  in  whatever  he  believes  to  be  justice  and 
truth.  We  cannot  recall,  in  any  late  work,  a  character  so  ideally 
lofty,  yet  so  faithful  to  reality.  The  heroic  spirit  in  which  he  goes 
West,  abandoning  the  luxuries  he  has  been  accustomed  to,  and 
settling  down  in  his  rude  log  hut,  determined  to  conquer  fortune 
with  his  own  good  right  hand,  is,  indeed,  the  true  type  of  a  self-  ,' 
relying  American.  No  fiction  of  Mrs.  Southworth's  bears  such/ 
proofs  of  careful  finish.  It  ought,  on  these  several  accounts,  to" 
have  a  popularity  unrivalled  by  any  of  her  former  works,  spite  of 
the  immense  circulation  they  have  attained." 


Copies  of  either  edition  of  the  above  work  will  be  sent  to 
any  part  of  the  United  States,  free  of  postage,  on  the  person  wishing 
it  remitting  the  price  to  the  publisher,  in  a  letter. 

Published  and  for  sale  by  T.  B.  PETERSON, 

No.  1O2  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 

(IT) 


18         MRS.    SOUTH  WORTH'S    WORKS 

T.  B.  PETERSON  publishes  a  complete  and  uniform  edition  of 
Mrs.  Southworth's  works,  any  one  or  all  of  which  will  be  sent  to  any 
place  in  the  United  States,  free  of  postage,  on  receipt  of  remittances. 
The  following  are  their  names  : 

THE  LOST  HEIRESS.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southwoi-th. 
Being  a  splendid  Picture  of  American  Life;  everybody  admiring 
and  applauding  it  as  a  master  production.  Complete  in  two  vo- 
lumes, paper  cover.  Price  One  Dollar ;  or  in  one  volume,  cloth, 
for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

THE  MISSING  BRIDE  ;  oa,  MIRIAM,  THE  AVENGER.  By  Mrs. 
Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.  Two  volumes,  paper  cover.  Price 
One  Dollar  ;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

THE  WIFE'S  VICTORY;  AND  NINE  OTHER  NOUVELLETTES. 
By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.  It  is  embellished  with  a  view 
of  Prospect  Cottage,  the  residence  of  the  author,  as  well  as  a  view 
of  Brotherton  Hall.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover.  Price 
One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

THE  CURSE  OF  CLIFTON.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth. 
Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover.  Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound 
in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  Oue  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

THE  DISCARDED  DAUGHTER.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  South- 
worth.  Two  volumes,  paper  cover,  price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in 
one  volume,  cloth,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

THE  DESERTED  WIFE.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover. 
Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

IN  PEESS,  AND  WILL  BE  SHORTLY  PUBLISHED. 
RETRIBUTION;  OR,  THE  VALE  OF  SHADOWS.     A  Tale  of  Pas- 
sion.    By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.     Two  volumes,  paper 
cover.     Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

THE  MOTHER-IN-LAW;  OR,  THE  ISLE  OF  RAYS.  By  Mrs. 
Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper 
cover.  Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

SHANNONDALE.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.  Complete 
in  two  volumes,  paper  cover.  Price  One  Dollar ;  or  bound  in 
one  volume,  cloth,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

VIRGINIA  AND  MAGDALENE:  OR,  THE  FOSTER  SISTERS. 
By  Mrs.  E.  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper 
cover.  Price  One  Dollar;  or  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

BSF"  Copies  of  either  edition  of  any  of  the  above  works,  will  be 
sent  to  any  person,  to  any  part  of  the  United  States,  fret  of  postage, 
on  their  remitting  the  price  of  whatever  works  they  may  wish,  to 
the  publisher,  in  a  letter  post-paid. 

Published  and  for  Sale  by  T.  B.  PETERSON, 

No.  102  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 


; -#=-!. 


•VIST    INTO    WOI.F    GROVE 


INDIA: 


THE 

«V  ...    ..^ .'..V     • 

I7QHNI* 

.. 


PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 


EMMA  D.  E.  N.  SOUTHWORTH. 

AUTHOR  OP  "DESERTED  WIFE,"  "LOST  HEIRESS,"  "CURSE  OP  CLIFTON," 
"  DISCARDED  DAUGHTER,"  "  MISSING  BRIDE,"  "WIFE'S  VICTORY." 


"  How  changed  since  last  her  speaking  eye 
Glanced  gladness  round  the  glittering  room, 

Where  high-born  men  were  proud  to  wait — 

Where  beauty  watched  to  imitate 
Her  gentle  voice  and  lovely  mien— 

And  gather  from  her  air  and  gait 
The  graces  of  its  queen  1" — BYBON. 


T.  B.  PETERSON,  NO.  102  CHESTNUT  STREET. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856,  by 
T.    B.    PETERSON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  in  and  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


PEIKTED  BY  KINO  ft  BAIT!  P. 
TALMAOK   BROTHERS,   BOOKBINDERS. 


MRS,    HELEN    MOORE    WALL, 

V  />  '  >*;:;  5   :    ,W;     ',  >  J*fi\       .    . 

OT    PETEBSBUKG,    VIRGINIA, 

is  most  i&tiiSiiAi  Mirnfeit, 

BY    HEE    FRIEND, 

EMMA  D.  E.  N.  SOUTHWORTH. 


PEOSPICT  COTTAOB, 

February  IGOi,  1856. 


20512 


PREFACE. 


THE  leading  incidents  of  the  following  story 
were  suggested  by  circumstances  in  the  life  of  a 
near  relative,  long  since,  we  trust,  in  Heaven.  I 
have  used  the  novelist's  privilege  in  giving  a  hap- 
pier termination  to  the  fiction  than  is  warranted 
by  the  facts. 

E.  D.  E.  N.  S. 

PROSPECT  COTTAGE, 

/ 

February  16th,  1856. 


CONTENTS. 


i.  The  Collegian's  Supper, 25 

ii.  A  Southern  Home, .37 

in.  The  Planter's  Daughter,        ^*  <*'-/;>  ,x     .        .        .  46 

iv.  Mrs.  Sutherland,     .         .     •    .        .",.'..  .67 

v.  Chambre  de  Toilette  et  la  Trousseau,       ..';  -V:     V  HI 

n.  Love  and  Gold,      .        .        .     '"."     -»-.,.  .     118 

vii.  Reaction,       i, '.•/'•'  '  *'  J*.-jt    -•.'»!•        •         •  132 

mi.  Farewell,       .         .         .         .        .        .         .        .  .     154 

ix.  The  Fatal  Marriage,           .         .         .        .       '.        .  162 

x.  Rosalie  and  her  Lover, 177 

xi.  Rosalie,           .  '.      \  ,- :  ,;        ...         .         .  183 

xu.  Bridal  Preparations,      .         .        .'       .    f   .        .  .     196 

xui.  The  Meeting,     .         .        .'      ."       .       ,_.        ,        v  205 

xiv.  Rosalie,         .        ,        .        .        .        .         .         .  .     217 

xv.  Discordances,        •    *        v;.     »•-       ....  223 

x\i.  The  Confession,     v        ...      .        4       '.'       T;  .     235 

xvn.  Prognostics,        .         .         .'.-,,»         ^         .  241 

xvin.  Departures,            .         .         .         .'      .,-.,.  .     246 

xix.  The  Journey, 250 

xx.  The  Log  Cabin, .     266 

(23) 


24  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  "OB 

xxi.  Going  to  Housekeeping,      '    . .                .   '     .        .  274 
xxii.  A  Night  of  Fear,        .      Jr-r  -.      '•'••*      •        -282 

xxin.  Cabin-Keeping .        .  291 

xxiv.  Domestic  Arrangements,             299 

xxv.  Cashmere, 307 

xxvi.  India, 328 

xxvii.  Forgery, 334 

xxvin.  Uncle  Billy, 340 

xxix.  Failing  Health, 344 

xxx.  An  Original, 361 

xxxi.  Magnanimity,       „     ., .    .- 358 

xxxn.  Restitution,       .        .        .         .        .      .  .     _  .         .  3G1 

xxxin.  Immortality,     •' " -i ""  .•*•"     •,  i '       r*       .                  .  371 

xxxiv.  Take  up  the  Burthen  of  Life  again,            .         .         .  382 

xxxv.  To  Wed  the  Earliest  Loved,           ....  388 


INDIA: 


THE 


PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 


CHAPTER    I. 
THE   COLLEGIAN'S  SUPPER. 

"  Filled  is  life's  goblet  to  the  brim." — Longfellow. 

"INDIA!"  exclaimed  Mark  Sutherland,  rising  at 
the  head  of  his  table,  and  waving  high  the  brimming 
glass,  while  his  fine  dark  countenance  lighted  up 
with  enthusiasm.  A  young  Ajax  in  athletic  beauty 
and  strength,  stood  the  Mississippian,  until — 

"India!"  responded  his  friend  Lauderdale,  from  the 
foot  of  the  table. 

"  India !"  echoed  the  young  men  around  the  board, 
as  they  all  arose,  and,  standing,  honoured  the  toast. 
Then  the  glasses  jingled  merrily  down  upon  the  table, 
and  then — 

"  Now  that  in  blind  faith  we  have  worshipped  your 
goddess — who  is  India  ?  Is  it  a  woman  or  a  quarter 
of  the  globe — your  idolatry  ?" 

(25) 


26      INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

"  India  I"  ejaculated  the  young  Southerner  with  fer- 
vor. "  India  1 

" '  Oh !  a  woman !   friend,  a  woman !     Why,  a  beast  had  scarce   been 
duller ' 

than  to  have  harboured  such  a  question!  Fill  high 
your  glasses  again,  and 

«  "Twixt  the  red  wine  and  the  chalice' 

let  me  breathe  her  beauty's  name.  Gentlemen,  are 
you  ready? — The  Pearl  of  Pearl  River  I" 

"The  Pearl  of  Pearl  River!"  responded  Lauderdale. 

"The  Pearl  of  Pearl  River!"  re-echoed  all  those  gay 
youths,  as  this  toast  was  also  quaffed  standing,  and 
the  empty  glasses  rattled  down  upon  the  table. 

This  was  the  parting  toast,  and  the  company  broke 
up  to  separate.  The  young  guests  all  crowded  around 
their  youthful  host  with  adieus,  regrets,  congratula- 
tions, and  kind  wishes ;  for  all  these  opposite  phrases 
were  equally  appropriate,  as  will  be  seen. 

Mark  Sutherland  was  the  son  and  nephew  of  the 
celebrated  Pearl  River  planters — the  three  brothers 
Sutherland.  He  was  the  prospective  possessor  of 
three  immense  estates — being  the  heir  of  the  first,  be- 
trothed to  the  heiress  of  the  second,  and  co-heir  with 
her  to  the  third  extensive  plantation.  He  had  just 
concluded  a  brilliant  collegiate  course  with  distin- 
guished honour;  he  was  soon  to  return  south,  to  enter 
upon  his  patrimony,  and  claim  the  hand  of  his 
affianced  bride,  before  he  set  forth  upon  his  Euro- 
pean travels.  And  this  was  his  valedictory  enter- 
tainment, given  to  his  classmates.  For  him,  indeed — 

"  Filled  was  life's  goblet  to  the  brim !" 


THE  COLLEGIAN'S  SUPPER.  27 

No  wonder  those  fine  strong  eyes  danced  with  an- 
ticipation as  he  shook  hands  right  and  left.  He  was, 
up  to  this  time,  a  frank,  thoughtless,  joyous,  extrava- 
gant fellow — selfish  because  he  knew  nothing  of  sor- 
row, and  wasteful  because  he  knew  nothing  of  want. 
Affluent  in  youth,  health,  and  love — affluent  in  wealth, 
honour,  and  homage — he  seemed  to  consider  gold 
valueless  as  dust,  and  deference  only  his  just  due. 
He  "  the  heir  of  all  the  ages"  past  of  thought  and  toil, 
had  entered  upon  his  intellectual  inheritance  with 
great  $clat ;  but  as  yet  not  one  mite  had  he  added  to 
the  store ;  not  one  thought  had  he  bestowed  upon  the 
great  subjects  that  now  engross  all  earnest  minds. 
Too  full  of  youthful  fire,  vitality,  love,  hope,  and  joy, 
for  any  grave  thought  or  feeling  to  find  room  in  his 
brain  or  heart,  was  the  planter's  son.  How,  indeed, 
could  earnest  thought  find  entrance  through  such  a 
crowd  of  noisy  joys  to  his  heart  ?  He  stood  upon 
the  threshold  of  the  past,  indeed,  and  his  face  was  set 
forward  towards  the  future ;  but  not  one  onward  step 
had  he  taken.  Why  should  he  trouble  himself? 
The  bounteous  future  was  advancing  to  him,  smiling, 
and  laden  with  all  the  riches  of  life  and  time. 

But  he  stood,  receiving  the  adieus  of  his  young 
friends,  and  dealing  out  wholesale  and  retail  invita- 
tions for  all  and  each  to  come  and  visit  him,  for  an 
indefinite  length  of  time,  or  until  they  were  tired.  At 
last  they  were  all  gone,  except  Lauderdale,  his  churn, 
who  was  passing  some  days  with  him,  as  his  guest,  at 
the  Minerva  House. 

"You  are  an  enviable  dog,  Sutherland,"  exclaimed 
the  latter,  clapping  him  sharply  upon  the  shoulder. 
"  You  are  a  deuced  enviable  villain !  By  my  soul,  it 


28  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

is  enough  to  make  a  poor  man  like  me  dissatisfied 
with  his  lot,  or  the  present  arrangements  of  society, 
which  amounts  to  precisely  the  same  thing,  I  sup- 
pose. Deuce  take  me,  if  it  is  not  enough  to  make  me 
turn  Agrarian,  Chartist,  Eadical,  or  whatever  may  be 
the  new  name  for  the  old  discontent !  Just  contrast 
our  positions !  Here  are  you,  at  one-and-twenty  years 
of  age,  entirely  free  from  all  toil  and  care  for  the  whole 
remainder  of  your  life.  You  will  now  return  to  a 
sumptuous  southern  home,  on  a  magnificent  estate, 
where  troops  of  friends  wait  to  welcome  you,  and 
troops  of  slaves  attend  to  serve  you,  and  where  your 
bride,  the  very  pearl  of  beauty,  dreams  of  and  lan- 
guishes for  your  presence;  and,  above  all — yes,  I 
speak  reflectingly,  above  all — more  than  sumptuous 
home,  and  troops  of  friends,  and  trains  of  servants, 
and  blushing  bride — where,  lying  perdue  at  your  ser- 
vice, is  a  plenty  of  the  root  of  all  evil — 

'  Gold  to  save — gold  to  lend — 
Gold  to  give — gold  to  spend.' 

While  I! — well,  I  shall  just  plod  on  in  the  old  way, 
teaching  school  one  half  the  year  to  pay  my  college 
expenses  for  the  other,  until  I  find  myself  in  some 
lawyer's  shop,  in  arrears  with  my  landlady,  in  debt  to 
my  washerwoman — detesting  to  walk  up  the  street, 
because  I  should  pass  the  tailor's  store — abhorring  to 
walk  down  it,  because  I  should  be  sure  to  see  the 
shoemaker  standing  in  his  door.  With  no  more  com- 
fort or  convenience  in  my  life  than  can  be  enjoyed 
between  my  little  back-chamber,  up  four  pair  of  stairs 
in  a  cheap  boarding-house,  and  the  straight-backed 
chair  and  high-topped  desk  of  the  law  shop.  And  no 


THE  COLLEGIAN'S  SUPPER.  29 

more  love,  or  hope,  or  poetry,  in  my  life,  than  may  be 
found  bound  up  between  the  covers  of  Coke  upon 
Lyttleton.  Or  perhaps  I  shall  turn  private  tutor,  and 
advertise,  'A  highly  respectable  young  gentleman,  a 
graduate  of  Yale  College,  wishes  to  obtain,'  &c. ;  and 
you,  who  will  be  by  this  time  the  grave  head  of  a 
family,  with  several  little  domestic  liabilities,  will 
probably  answer  the  advertisement ;  and  I  shall  find 
myself  teaching  the  names  of  the  keys  of  knowledge 
to  young  Mark  and  his  brothers.  Oh  1" 

"  Ha !  ha  1  ha  I  ha!  ha  I  ha  1  ha  1"  laughed  Sutherland. 

"Oh,  you'll  patronise  me,  rather!  You'll  be  kind 
to  me ;  for  you'll  say  to  yourself  and  friends,  'He  was 
a  college  friend  of  mine,  poor  fellow.'  I  fancy  I  hear 
and  see  you  saying  it  now,  with  that  careless,  cordial, 
jolly  condescension  of  yours." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  My  dear  Lincoln! 
My  dear  fellow,  why  should  that  be?  Why  should 
you  be  pettifogger  or  pedagogue,  unless  you  have  a 
vocation  for  it  ?  Why  should  anybody  do  what  they 
don't  want  to  do  ?  Life  is  rich — full  of  wealth,  and 
love,  and  joy,  and  glory.  Enter  and  take  pos- 
session." 

"  Enter  and  take  possession !  Yes,  that  is  what  you 
can  do.  Life  is  full  of  wealth,  and  love,  and  joy,  and 
glory,  for  you,  indeed ;  and  you  can  afford  to  mock 
me  with  those  words!  But,  never  mind,  my  fine 
flamingo  !  I  have  heard  the  wise  say  that  happiness 
is  not  so  unequally  distributed,  after  all.  And  I,  for 
one,  don't  believe  this  cake  of  comfort  is  going  to  be 
so  very  unjustly  divided  between  us,  or  that  you  will 
have  all  the  white  sugar  on  the  top,  and  I  all  the  burnt 
paper  at  the  bottom." 


30      INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

"  See  here,  my  friend,  remember  that  we  good-for- 
nothing  Mississippians  are  not  initiated  into  the  mys- 
teries of  the  kitchen,  and  therefore  I  don't  understand 
your  culinary  figure  of  speech  at  all." 

"  Oh,  go  on !  go  on  I     You're  a  young  bear  I" 

"A  young  bear!  Comrades!  Oh,  they  are  all 
gone!  A  young  bear?  Oh,  I  suppose  he  alludes 
to  my  black  whiskers  and  hair,  and  my  shag  over 
coat!" 

"I  mean  your  trouble  is  all  before  you!" 

"  Trouble  ?  Oh,  my  dear  boy,  that  is  a  word  with 
out  a  meaning !  Trouble  ?  What  is  trouble  ?  What 
idea  is  the  word  designed  to  represent  ?  Trouble  ? 
Oh,  my  dear  fellow,  it  is  all  a  mistake,  a  mere  notion, 
a  superstition,  a  prejudice ;  a  saying  of  old  folks,  who, 
being  near  the  verge  of  departure  from  this  bright, 
glad,  joyous,  jubilant  world,  vainly  try  to  console 
themselves  by  slandering  it  as  a  world  of  trouble,  and 
talk  of  a  better  one,  to  which  they  are  progressing.  If 
this  world  in  itself  is  not  '  good,'  as  the  Creator  pro- 
nounced it  to  be  in  the  beginning,  by  all  the  rules  of 
comparison,  how  can  any  other  world  be  said  to  be 
better?" 

"  Well,  I  believe  in  the  better  world  as  much  as 
they  do ;  but  look  you !  the  pleasantest  notion  I  have 
of  Heaven  is  its  being — being" 

"  Oh,  don't  let  it  go  any  further — as  good  as  this 
world,  and  only  better  as  far  as  it  endures  longer. 
This  world  is  full  of  all  that  is  great  and  glorious  for 
enjoyment !  And,  Lincoln,  my  fine  fellow,  enter  and 
take  possession!  Don't  teach  or  study  law!  Don't 
plod;  it  is  ungentlemanly.  Somebody,  I  suppose,  must 
teach  and  study  law,  and  do  such  things — but  don't 


THE  COLLEGIAN'S  SUPPER.  31 

you.  Do  you  leave  it  to  those  a — those  persons  a — 
those  in  fact  who  have  the  plebeian  instinct  of  labor; 
you  apprehend  ?  They  really  enjoy  work  now !  Just- 
think  of  it  I  I  suppose  that  gracious  nature,  intending 
them  to  carry  on  the  work  of  the  world,  endowed 
them  with  a  taste  for  it!  Ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  ha! 
But  /'ve  no  vocation  for  it !  Neither  have  you,  my 
dear  boy.  Don't  force  your  nature  in  an  opposite 
direction  to  which  it  tends,  therefore !  Enter  life,  and 
take  possession  !'^_ 

"Humph!  thank  you!  This  is  to  say,  'follow  my 
attractions,'  and  if  they  '  attract'  me  to  lead  an  idle 
life,  and  live  upon  other  people,  why,  so  much  the 
better — they  are  my  attractions ;  and  if  they  '  attract' 
me  to  pick  my  host's  pocket,  or  run  away  with  his 
daughter,  it  is  the  same  thing  by  the  same  law." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  Oh,  certainly;  remembering  that 
your  host  might  experience  an  attraction  to  blow  your 
brains  out." 

"  Pleasant  points  to  be  drawn  to.  I  guess  I  shall  not 
follow  my  attractions!  I'll  stick  to  the  little  law  shop, 
and  relieve  weariness  by  grumbling.  Some  distin- 
guished men  have  emerged  from  those  little  law  dens; 
and,  by  the  way,  seriously,  my  dear  Mark,  I  think  that 
I,  that  you,  even  you,  possess  those  very  qualities  out 
of  which  really  distinguished  men  are  formed,  and  that 
if  destiny  had  not  'thrust'  a  sort  of  moneyed  and 
landed  greatness  upon  you,  that  even  you  would 
'  achieve'  some  judicial,  political,  diplomatic,  or  intel- 
lectual greatness  of  some  sort." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  even  //  Well,  that  is  a  stretch  of 
possibility,  indeed.  Even  7j  humph!  Mais  a\  nos 
moutons.  Will  you  come  home  with  me  ?  Do  come 


32  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OP  PEARL  RIVER. 

and  be  my  guest  d  eternite — or  until  you  win  some 
rich  Mississippi  beauty.  Woo  beauty,  not  Blackstone, 
for  a  fortune.  You  have  so  much  more  genius  for  the 
first  than  for  the  last,  my  fine  fellow." 

"  Oh,  then  you  would  have  me  turn  fortune-hunter, 
and,  under  cover  of  your  friendship  and  introduction, 
aim  at  some  heiress,  and  bring  her  down,  and  so  secure 
wealth?" 

"Set  fire  to  you,  no!  "Whom  do  you  take  me  for? 
Do  you  think  that  /  would  present  an  adventurer  to 
Southern  Creoles?  No,  sir!  But  I  do  want  you  to 
fall  in  love  with  a  Southern  beauty,  and  fortune  would 
follow,  of  course." 

"  I  do  not  see  it  at  all.  There  are  several  links 
wanting  in  that  chain  of  reasoning.  But,  apropos  of 
beauty,  love,  and  marriage.  Tell  me  something  more 
of  Miss  Sutherland,  votre  belle  fiancee." 

"India!  listen,  you."  And  he  took  Lauderdale's 
arm,  and  turned  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room  for 
a  confidential  chat.  "  Listen,  you !  I  named  her  just 
now  over  the  wine.  I  regret  to  have  done  so.  Would 
it  were  undone !  But  so  it  is ;  in  some  moment  of  ex- 
citement a  word  passes  our  lips,  and  it  is  unrecallable 
forever.  She  is  so  sacred  to  my  heart,  so  divine  to 
my  soul!  I  often  wonder  if  Helen  of  Argos  were 
half  as  beautiful  as  she — my  India." 

"What  a  strange,  charming  name  that  is  for  a 
woman  1" 

"Is  it  not?  But,  rich,  luxurious,  and  gorgeous,  in 
its  associations,  too — (and  that  is  why  it  was  given  to 
her)  it  suits  her.  She  is  India.  Her  mother  was  like 
her — a  beautiful,  passionate  Havanienne,  rich  in  genius, 
poetry,  song — luxuriating  in  the  beautiful  creations 


THE  COLLEGIAN'S  SUPPEK.  35 

of  others,  yet  far  too  indolent  to  create.  More  than 
all,  she  lost  herself  amid  the  oriental  elysiums  of  Moore, 
and  thence  she  named  her  only  daughter  Hinda.  And 
as  the  maiden  budded  and  bloomed  into  womanhood 
— well,  yes,  I  believe,  after  all,  it  was  I  who  softened 
down  her  name  to  India.  It  has  the  same  derivation, 
it  is  the  same  name,  in  fact.  Oh  I  and  it  suits  her." 

"  Describe  your  nonpareil  to  me." 

"  I  cannot.  By  my  soul's  idolatry,  I  cannot.  The 
best  of  beauty — the  charm,  the  soul,  the  divine  of 
beauty — can  never  be  described  or  painted.  It  is 
spiritual,  and  can  only  be  perceived." 

"Humph!  is  she  fair?" 

"  No — yet  radiant." 

"Dark?" 

"  No — yet  shadowy." 

" Is  she  tall?" 

"No." 

"Short?" 

"No,  no;  nonsense!" 

"  What,  neither  tall  nor  short  ?  Perhaps  she  is  of 
medium  height." 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  cannot  tell,  indeed.  But 
oh !  she  is  beautiful — she  is  glorious !  My  lady,  my 
queen !" 

"  To  come  to  something  tangible,  what  is  the  colour 
of  her  eyes  ?" 

"  On !  what  is  the  colour  of  love,  or  joy,  or  heaven? 
for  as  soon  could  I  tell  you  the  colour  of  these  as  of 
her  witching  eyes.  I  only  know  they  have  light, 
softly  thrilling  all  the  chords  of  life,  like  music ;  and 
shadows,  calming  my  spirit,  like  silence." 

"  Well,  I  admit  the  hue  of  beautiful  eyes  to  be  a 
2 


84  INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

mysterious  point ;  but  hair,  now,  is  a  little  more  cer- 
tain in  that  respect.  Tell  me  the  hue  of  your  lady's 
tresses." 

"  I  cannot.  I  only  know  they  are  rich,  warm,  and 
lustrous." 

"Humph!  satisfactory  portrait  that.  Oh!  here  is 
Flamingo.  Come,  Flame,  and  tell  me  what  is  the 
colour  of  your  young  mistress's  hair." 

The  latter  part  of  this  speech  was  addressed  to  Mr. 
Sutherland's  valet,  who  had  just  entered.  Flamingo 
was  a  character  in  his  way ;  a  handsome,  bright  mu- 
latto, with  quite  a  "  wealth"  of  bushy  black  silky  hair 
and  whiskers.  Very  mercurial  in  temperament,  and 
excessively  fond  of  dress,  he  presented  quite  as  gay 
and  gorgeous  an  exterior  as  the  famous  feathered 
biped,  his  namesake.  Flamingo  stood  for  a  moment 
in  a  quandary,  at  the  suddenness  and  novelty  of  the 
question  put  to  him. 

"Oh,  come,  now;  you  are  not  poetically  bewil- 
dered. Can't  you  tell  us  the  colour  of  the  lady's 
hair?" 

"  De  colour  o'  Miss  Inda's  hair,  sir — a — yes,  sir — 
its — its — 'bout  de  colour  o'  'lasses  taffy,  when  you're 
'bout  half  done  pullin'  of  it,  an'  it's  shining." 

"  Molasses  taffy !  Out,  you  wretch !  It  is  amber- 
hued,  Lauderdale — amber-hued,  understand ;  the  rich, 
warm,  lustrous  hue  of  amber.  Molasses  taffy !  Oh, 
villain !  To  think  I  could  not  find  a  comparison  in  all 
nature  precious  enough  for  those  precious  tresses,  and 
he  should  compare  them  to  molasses  taffy !  Out  of  my 
sight,  beast !  Molasses  taffy!  PahF  exclaimed  Suther- 
land, in  disgust,  while  Lauderdale  laughed  aloud,  and 
Flamingo  vanished  into  the  adjoining  chamber,  where 


THE  COLLEGIAN'S  SUPPER.  35 

he  turned  on  the  gas,  and  busied  himself  in  making 
the  apartment  comfortable  for  the  night. 

"  Come,  let's  get  out  of  this  mess  before  the  waiters 
come  to  clear  away  the  service.  Look  I  This  is  one 
of  the  things  that  always  make  me  melancholy,"  said 
Sutherland,  pointing  to  the  disordered  table. 

Both  young  men  were  about  to  retire,  when  Suther- 
land again  clasped  the  hand  of  his  friend  and  said — 
"But  you  have  not  yet  told  me  whether  you  wjll 
accompany  me  home.  Come,  laying  all  jesting  and 
raillery  aside,  you  know  how  happy  I  should  be  to' 
have  you." 

"And  you  know  what  I  have  told  you  before,  my 
dear  Sutherland,  that  I  must  go  to  New  York  for  the 
anniversary  week.  And  by  the  way,  my  dear  Damon, 
why  cannot  you  stop  a  few  days  before  you  go  South, 
and  attend  some  of  these  meetings  ?" 

"Me!  Heavens!  You  shock  me!  You  deprive 
me  of  words — of  breath !  //  a  Mississippian  !  Why, 
look  you ;  if  I  were  to  attend  one  of  those  meetings, 
and  if  it  should  be  known  in  my  neighborhood,  my 
friends  would  turn  me  off,  my  uncles  disinherit  me, 
and  my  father  rise  from  his  grave  to  reproach  me. 
Sir,  my  friends  and  relatives  are  '  of  the  most  straitest 
sect  of  the  Pharisees  !'  " 

"  And  do  you  share  their  opinions  ?" 

"  Opinions  ?  Opinions,  my  dear  fellow !  I  have  no 
opinions.  Opinions,  it  appears  to  me,  are  the  currency 
of — of — those  who  have  nothing  else  to  offer  in  ex- 
change for  a  living." 

"  Levity !  Oh,  Mark,  how  you  sin  against  your  own 
fine  mind  I" 


86  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEAKL   RIVEU. 

"Oh!  come,  come,  come,  no  more  of  that.  'Sir, 
praise  is  very  flat,  except  from  the  fair  sex.'  " 

"Ah!  I  see  you  are  hopelessly  flighty  to-night. 
Good  night." 

"  Good  night.     Stay ;  you  will  go  with  me  ?" 

"  No ;  unless  you  first  accompany  me  to  New  York, 
and  remain  through  the  anniversary  week,  and  attend 
the  meetings." 

"And  hear  myself  traduced,  slandered,  abused, 
cursed !  A  pleasant  invitation — thank  you." 

"  And  get  yourself  disabused  of  many  things,  you 
should  rather  say.  See  here,  Mark,  my  proposition  is 
perfectly  fair  and  reasonable,  and  has  a  meaning  in 
it.  Observe :  you  invite  me  to  the  South,  and  laugh- 
ingly promise  that  an  actual  acquaintance  with  the 
patriarchal  system  shall  cool  what  you  call  my  fever ; 
and  that  a  Southern  bride  with  two  hundred  negroes, 
shall  completely  cure  it.  Well,  I  am  reasonable.  I 
am  open  to  conviction.  I  am  willing  to  try  it — to 
examine  the  'peculiar  institution'  with  the  utmost 
impartiality.  Nor  do  I  fear  or  doubt  the  result.  But 
observe  further.  Both  of  us,  it  seems,  have  heard  but 
one  side  of  this  great  question.  I  therefore  consent  to 
go  with  you  to  the  South,  and  spend  some  weeks  on  a 
cotton  plantation,  only  on  condition  that  you  accom- 
pany me  to  New  York,  and  attend  the  anniversary 
meetings.  In  a  word,  I  will  see  your  side  of  the 
question,  if  you  will  hear  ours." 

"  I'll  do  it,  I'll  go,"  exclaimed  Sutherland,  laughing, 
and  clapping  his  hand  cordially  into  that  of  Lauder- 
dale.  "  I'll  go,  nor  have  /  any  doubt  or  fear  as  to 
the  result." 


A   SOUTHERN    HOME.  37 

CHAPTER  II. 

A    SOUTHERN    HOME. 

" A  villa  beautiful  to  see ; 

Marble-porched  and  cedar-chambered, 

Hung  with  silken  drapery ; 
Bossed  with  ornaments  of  silver, 

Interlaid  with  gems  and  gold ; 
Filled  with  carvings  from  cathedrals, 

Rescued  in  the  days  of  old ; 
Eloquent  with  books  and  pictures, 

All  that  luxury  can  afford ; 
Warm  with  statues  that  Pygmalion 

Might  have  fashioned  and  adored. 
In  the  forest  glades  and  vistas, 

Lovely  are  the  light  and  gloom  : 
Fountains  sparkle  in  the  gardens, 

And  exotics  breathe  perfume." — Hackay. 

THE  sun  shines  on  no  more  "beautiful  and  entrancing 
region  than  the  vale  of  Pearl  river.  It  is  the  Elysium. 
of  the  sunny  south,  reposing  between  the  rich  alluvial 
lands  of  the  Mississippi,  and  the  fragrant*  pine  forests 
of  the  Pascagoula.  The  green  land  of  the  valley 
seems  to  roll  in  gentle  undulations,  like  the  waves  of 
a  calm  sea.  Between  the  swelling  hills,  or  rather 
waves  of  verdure,  flow  crystal  streams  towards  the 
bosom  of  the  Pearl.  These  lovely  hills  are  capped 

*  All  who  have  travelled  through  or  near  the  pine  woods  of  Mississippi 
know  the  effect  of  the  southern  sun  upon  these  trees,  ripening  and  rare- 
fying from  them  a  most  grateful  and  salubrious  fragrance,  called  the 
"  terebinthine  odour."  The  effect  of  the  climate  is  still  more  obvious  upon 
ornamental  trees  and  flowers.  Those  that  lose  much  of  their  luxuriant 
beauty  and  fragrance  in  the  North,  attain  in  the  South  their  utmost  per- 
fection. 


38  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

with  groves  of  the  most  beautiful  and  odoriferous  of 
the  southern  flowering  trees.  These  charming  streams 
are  shaded  with  the  most  fragrant  and  delightful  of 
the  flowering  shrubs  and  vines.  Here  nature  throws 
around  her  riches  with  an  unsparing  hand  and  a 
wonderful  exuberance  of  luxury.  Birds  of  the  most 
brilliant  plumage  and  enchanting  melody  fill  all  the 
summer  groves,  at  early  morn  and  eve,  with  their 
perfect  music.  Flowers  of  countless  varieties,  and 
most  beautiful  forms  and  hues,  laden  all  the  air  with 
their  ambrosial  perfume.  The  breeze  is  charged  with 
music  and  fragrance,  as  from  the  spicy  groves  of 
Araby  the  Blest. 

If  in  this  garden — this  conservatory  of  Nature, 
where  all  her  choicest  luxuries  are  assembled — there 
is  one  spot  more  favoured  than  all  the  rest,  it  is  "  Cash- 
mere," the  beautiful  seat  of  Clement  Sutherland. 

The  brothers  Sutherland  emigrated  from  the  old 
dominion,  and  settled  on  the  Pearl  river,  in  those 
palmy  days  of  cotton-planting,  when  every  planter 
seemed  a  very  Midas,  turning  all  he  touched  to  gold, 
and  when  the  foundations  were  laid  of  some  of  the 
present  enormous  southern  fortunes.  It  was  no  lovo 
for  the  land  of  sun  that  brought  the  Sutherlands  there. 
They  had  heard  that  the  common  annual  profits  of 
the  cotton  crops  were  from  ten  to  eighty  thousand 
dollars ;  and  they  had  sold  their  tobacco  plantation  on 
the  Potomac,  and  emigrated  to  the  valley  of  the  Pearl. 
The  spot  selected  by  the  brothers  was  that  Eden  of 
the  valley  where  the  Pearl  river  turns  with  a  serpen- 
tine bend  in  the  form  of  an  S  with  an  additional 
curve,  shaping  the  land  into  two  round  points  to  the 
west,  and  one — the  largest  and  loveliest — to  the  east. 


A   SOUTHEKX    HOME.  oU 

The  east  point  had  been  taken  up  by  Clement  Suther- 
land, the  eldest  of  the  brothers,  and  the  west  points 
by  the  two  others.  Thus  Clement  Sutherland's  plan- 
tation lay  embosomed  between  those  of  his  brethren. 
On  the  upper  side  lay  that  of  Mark,  the  second 
brother,  and  on  the  lower,  that  of  Paul,  the  third  and 
bachelor  brother. 

Yery  early  in  life,  and  some  years  previous  to  their 
emigration,  Mark  Sutherland  had  been  united  in 
marriage  to  a  lady  of  St.  Mary's — one  of  the  noblest 
of  Maryland's  noble  daughters.  From  her,  their  only 
son,  Mark  Sutherland,  the  younger,  inherited  a  strong 
mind,  warm  heart,  and  high  spirit ;  from  his  father  he 
took  the  stalwart  form,  athletic  strength,  and  dark  and 
sometimes  terrible  beauty,  that  marked  the  race  of 
Sutherland.  1 

Clement  Sutherland  had  remained  unmarried  until 
long  after  his  settlement  upon  the  Pearl.  But  one 
autumn,  while  on  a  visit  to  New  Orleans,  to  negotiate 
the  sale  of  his  cotton,  he  chanced  to  meet  a  beautiful 
West  Indian  girl,  whom  he  afterwards  wooed  and 
won  for  his  bride.  Whether  the  sweet  Havanienne, 
or  the  large  fortune  of  which  she  was  the  sole  heiress, 
was  the  object  of  his  worship,  was  a  mooted  point  by 
those  who  knew  him  best.  It  is  probable  he  adored 
both.  Certainly  no  slightest  wish  or  whim  of  the 
lovely  Creole  remained  unsatisfied.  It  was  she  who 
gave  the  charming  scene  of  his  home  the  appropriate 
name  of  Cashmere.  She  it  was  who  persuaded  him 
to  pause  in  his  incessant,  exclusive  thinking,  talking, 
and  acting,  about  cotton-growing,  and  his  mad  pur- 
suit of  gain,  to  build  and  adorn  an  elegant  villa  upon 
the  site  of  the  temporary  framed  house  to  which  he 


40  INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

had  brought  the  beautiful  epicurienne.  Her  rare  artistic 
taste  presided  over  the  architecture  and  embellishment 
of  the  mansion,  and  the  laying  out  and  ornamenting 
of  the  grounds.  But  here  the  evanescent  energy  of 
the  indolent  West  Indian  died  out.  She  was,  at  best, 
but  a  lovely  and  fragile  spring  flower,  that  faded  and 
fell  ere  the  summer  of  her  life  had  come.  She  left  a 
child  of  perfect  beauty — a  little  girl — who  inherited 
her  mother's  graceful  harmony  of  form  and  com- 
plexion, and  her  father's  strength  and  vigour  of  con- 
stitution. 

Immediately  after  the  death  of  her  mother,  the 
orphaned  infant  had  been  taken  home  by  her  aunt, 
Mrs.  Mark  Sutherland,  to  share  the  maternal  cares 
bestowed  upon  her  only  son.  The  lady  gave  herself 
up  to  the  rearing  and  education  of  these  children. 
And  not  the  noble  mother  of  the  Gracchi  was  prouder 
of  her  "jewels"  than  Mrs.  Sutherland  of  hers.  Thus 
the  infancy  and  childhood  of  Mark  and  Hinda  were 
passed  together — the  same  mother's  heart,  the  same 
nursery,  the  same  school-room,  nay,  the  same  book, 
with  their  heads  together,  and  their  black  and  golden 
locks  mingled,  were  shared  by  the  children.  And  no 
Guinea  mice  or  turtle  doves  were  ever  fonder  of  each 
other  than  our  boy  and  girl. 

It  was  a  woful  day  when  they  were  first  separated 
— Mark  to  enter  college,  and  Hinda  to  be  placed  at  a 
fashionable  boarding-school.  Tears  fell  on  both  sides, 
like  spring  showers.  Young  Mark,  when  laughed  at 
for  his  girlish  tears,  angrily  rejoined,  that  it  was  no 
shame  to  weep ;  that  the  renowned  hero,  Achilles,  had 
wept  when  they  took  Briseis  away  from  him,  also 
when  his  friend  Patroclus  was  slain. 


A   SOUTHERN   HOME.  41 

Paul  Sutherland,  the  third  brother,  had  remained 
up  to  the  present  time  unmarried,  with  the  determi- 
nation to  continue  so  until  the  end  of  his  life.  He 
bestowed  his  affections  with  paternal  pride  and  devo- 
tion upon  his  niece  and  nephew,  resolving  to  make 
them  his  joint  heirs,  and  with  his  own  large  property 
swell  the  enormous  bulk  of  theirs.  Just  two  years 
previous  to  the  opening  of  our  story,  the  Pearl  river 
trio  had  been  broken  by  the  death  of  Mark  Suther- 
land, the  elder.  Young  Sutherland  had  hastened 
home  to  console  his  widowed  mother,  but  not  long 
did  the  widow  permit  him  to  remain.  The  lady  sent 
him  back  at  the  commencement  of  the  next  following 
term. 

But  it  is  time  to  describe  more  particularly  Cash- 
mere, the  charming  seat  of  Clement  Sutherland,  and 
the  principal  scene  of  our  drama.  The  estate  itself 
was  a  very  extensive  one,  comprising  several  thou- 
sand acres  of  the  richest  land  in  the  vale.  That  part 
of  the  plantation  on  which  the  villa  had  been  erected 
lay  in  a  bend  of  the  Pearl  river,  surrounded  on  three 
sides — north,  east,  and  south — by  its  pellucid  waters. 
The  whole  of  this  area  is  occupied  by  the  mansion  and 
ornamental  grounds. 

The  villa  itself  is  a  very  elegant  edifice  of  white 
freestone,  fronting  the  river.  The  building  is  long 
and  broad,  in  proportion  to  its  height — this  being  the 
necessary  plan  of  all  southern  mansions,  to  save  them 
from  the  effects  of  the  terrible  tornadoes  that  sweep 
over  the  country,  and  to  which  a  higher  elevation 
would  expose  them.  But  the  mansion  is  relieved  from 
all  appearance  of  heaviness,  by  a  light  and  elegant 
Ionic  colonnade,  sustaining  an  open  verandah  run- 


42  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

ning  around  three  sides  of  the  building.  On  the 
fourth  side,  looking  to  the  south,  the  aspect  is  diver- 
sified by  a  large  bay  window  projecting  from  the 
lower  story,  and  an  elegant  Venetian  balcony  from 
the  upper  one. 

The  villa  is  also  shaded  on  three  sides — north,  west, 
and  south — by  a  grove  of  the  most  beautiful  and  fra- 
grant of  the  southern  trees — the  splendid  tulip-poplar, 
lifting  to  the  skies  its  slender  shaft,  crested  with 
elegantly-shaped  leaves  of  the  most  brilliant  and 
intense  verdure,  and  crowned  with  its  bell-shaped 
flowers  of  the  most  vivid  and  gorgeous  flame  colour ; 
the  beautiful  cotton- wood  tree,  softly  powdered  over 
with  its  formless  snowy  blossoms ;  the  queenly  mag- 
nolia-grand iflora,  with  its  glittering  green  foliage  and 
dazzling  white  flowers  and  rich  oppressive  aroma; 
the  pretty  red-bud,  with  its  umbrella-shaped  top,  its 
crumpled,  heart-shaped  leaves,  and  scarlet  tufts ;  the 
bois-d'arc,  in  full  bloom,  the  most  splendid  and  mag- 
nificent of  ornamental  trees,  uniting  the  rarest  quali- 
ties of  the  orange  tree  and  the  catalpa ;  the  chinienne, 
with  its  vivid  green  foliage  and  brilliant  purple  flowers, 
dropping  delicious  but  heavy  narcotic  odours,  weigh- 
ing down  the  nerves  and  brain  into  luxurious  repose, 
and  stupefying  the  very  birds  that  shelter  in  its 
aromatic  shades,  so  that  they  may  be  taken  captive 
with  the  bare  hand;  the  imperial  catalpa,  sovereign 
of  the  grove  by  virtue  of  the  grandeur  and  elegance 
of  its  form,  the  grace  and  beauty  of  its  foliage,  and 
the  ambrosial  perfume  of  its  flowers,  filling  all  the 
air  around  with  its  delightful  fragrance;  and  many, 
many  others,  so  various,  beautiful,  and  aromatic,  that 
one  is  lost  and  entranced  amid  the  luxuriating  wealth 


A   SOUTHERN   HOME.  43 

of  the  grove.  Birds  of  the  most  splendid  plumage 
and  the  most  exquisite  melody — the  goldfinch,  the 
oriole,  the  redbird,  the  paroquet,  the  nightingale, 
swallow,  and  innumerable  others,  shelter  here,  and 
their  songs  fill  the  air  with  music.  No  artificial  walk 
disfigures  the  sward.  The  green  and  velvety  turf 
affords  the  softest,  coolest  footing.  Rustic  seats  of 
twisted  bow- wood  are  under  the  trees;  here  and 
there  fountains  of  crystal  water  leap,  sparkle,  and 
fall,  ever  playing  silvery  accompaniments  to  the 
song  of  birds ;  statues  of  Diana,  Pan,  and  the  wood- 
nymphs,  peopled  the  grove.  Its  shades  are  the  de- 
lightful resort  of  the  Sutherlands  and  their  friends,  to 
enjoy  the  freshness  and  brilliancy  of  the  morning,  to 
find  shelter  from  the  burning  rays  of  the  sun  at  noon, 
or  to  luxuriate  in  the  delicious  breeze  of  the  evening. 
This  Arcadian  grove,  as  has  been  said,  surrounded 
the  house  on  three  sides — north,  west,  and  south. 

The  east  is  the  front  of  the  house  towards  the  river. 
The  view  here  is  open,  and  the  most  beautiful, 
charming,  and  variegated,  to  be  imagined. 

From  the  colonnaded  verandah  a  flight  of  broad 
marble  steps  lead  to  a  terrace  carpeted  with  grass,  and 
planted  with  rose-bushes — the  Damascus,  the  Pro- 
vence, the  scarlet,  the  white,  the  multiflora,  the  moss 
rose;  daily,  monthly,  and  perpetual  roses;  "roses — 
everywhere  roses" — such  a  luxuriant  exuberance  of 
roses  upon  this  velvety  terrace.  The  rose  terrace  is 
divided  from  the  lawn  by  a  trdllage  of  the  most  deli- 
cate and  elaborate  trellis- work ;  and  this  also  is 
wreathed  and  festooned  by  running  rose  vines. 

Below  this  spreads  the  lawn  on  every  side,  not  level, 
but  gently  waving,  and  covered  with  grass  as  soft,  as 


44  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

smooth,  and  as  downy  as  velvet ;  and  everywhere  the 
eye  roves  with  pleasure  over  a  turf  of  brilliant  intense 
green,  except  where  it  is  variegated  with  the  floral 
mosaic  work  of  gay  parterres,  or  trellised  arbours,  or 
reservoirs,  or  single  magnificent  forest  trees  left 
standing  in  honour  of  their  monarchal  grandeur.  The 
parterres  are  rich,  beautiful,  and  fragrant  beyond  de- 
scription; there  our  hot-house  plants  bloom  in  the 
open  air;  and  there  our  common  garden  flowers — 
violets,  lilies,  roses,  myrtles,  irises,  and  innumerable 
others — flourish  with  surpassing  luxuriance.  The 
arbours,  of  delicate  trellis-work  and  elegant  form,  are 
shaded  and  adorned  with  running  vines  of  rich  Arme- 
nean  and  cape  jessamine,  honeysuckles,  and  woodbine. 
The  reservoirs  contain  gold  fish,  and  other  ornamental 
specimens  of  the  piscatorial  kingdom. 

This  extensive  and  beautiful  lawn  is  surrounded  by 
an  iron  open-work  fencing,  very  light  and  elegant  in 
appearance,  yet  very  strong  and  impassable.  Three 
ornamented  gates  relieve  the  uniformity  of  this  iron 
trellis ;  one  on  the  north  leads  through  to  the  orange 
groves,  always  inviting  and  delightful,  whether  in  full 
bloom,  and  shedding  ambrosial  perfume  in  the  spring, 
or  laden  with  their  golden  fruit  in  the  fall.  The  gate 
on  the  north  admitted  into  the  vineyard,  where  every 
variety  of  the  finest  and  rarest  grapes  flourished  in 
luxuriant  abundance.  The  one  on  the  east  is  central 
between  these  two  others,  and  leads  from  the  lawn 
down  to  the  white  and  pebbly  beach  of  the  Pearl, 
where  pretty  boats  are  always  moored  for  the  conve- 
nience of  the  rambler  who  might  desire  to  cross  the 
river. 

And  then  the  curving  river  itself  is  well  named  the 


A   SOUTHERN   HOME.  45 

Pearl,  from  the  soft,  semi-transparent  glow  of  roseate, 
•whitish,  or  saffron  tints,  caught  from  the  heavens. 

Across  the  soft  water,  in  rich  contrast,  lie  hills,  and 
groves,  and  cotton-fields — the  latter,  one  of  the  gayest 
features  in  southern  scenery.  They  are  sometimes  a 
mile  square.  They  are  planted  in  straight  rows,  six 
feet  apart ;  and  the  earth  between  them,  of  a  rich 
Spanish-red  colour,  is  kept  entirely  clean  from  weeds. 
The  plants  grow  to  the  height  of  seven  feet,  and  spread 
in  full-leaved  branches,  bearing  brilliant  white  and 
gold-hued  flowers.  When  in  full  bloom,  a  cotton- 
field  by  itself  is  a  gorgeous  landscape.  Beyond  these 
hills,  and  groves,  and  cotton  fields,  are  other  cotton- 
fields,  and  groves,  and  hills,  extending  on  and  on, 
until  afar  off  they  blend  with  the  horizon,  in  soft,  in- 
distinct hues,  mingled  together  like  the  tints  of  the 
clouds. 

I  have  led  you  through  the  beautiful  grounds  im- 
mediately around  and  in  front  of  the  villa ;  but  behind 
the  mansion,  and  back  of  the  grove,  there  are  gardens 
and  orchards,  and  still  other  fields  of  cotton  and  out- 
houses, and  offices,  and  the  negro  village  called  "  The 
Quarters." 


46  INDIA.      THE   TEAKL  OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

CHAPTER    III. 
THE  PLANTER'S   DAUGHTER. 

She  has  halls  and  she  has  vassals,  and  the  resonant  steam  eagles 
Follow  fast  on  the  directing  of  her  floating  dove-like  hand, 

With  a  thunderous  vapour  trailing  underneath  the  starry  vigils, 
So  to  mark  upon  the  blasted  heavens  the  measure  of  her  lands. 

Mrs.  Browning. 

THE  summer  sun  had  just  sunk  below  the  horizon, 
leaving  all  the  heavens  suffused  with  a  pale  golden 
and  roseate  light,  that  falls  softly  on  the  semi-trans- 
parent waters  of  the  Pearl,  flowing  serenely  on  be- 
tween its  banks  of  undulating  hills  and  dales,  and 
green  and  purple  lights  and  glooms.  No  jarring  sight 
or  sound  breaks  the  voluptuous  stillness  of  the  scene 
and  hour.  The  golden  light  has  faded  from  the 
windows  and  balconies  of  the  villa,  and  sunk  with  the 
sunken  sun.  An  evening  breeze  is  rising  from  the  dis- 
tant pine- woods,  that  will  soon  tempt  the  inmates  forth 
to  enjoy  its  exhilarating  and  salubrious  freshness  and 
fragrance.  But  as  yet  all  is  quiet  about  the  mansion. 

In  the  innermost  sanctuary  of  that  house  reposes 
Miss  Sutherland.  It  is  the  most  elegant  of  a  sumptu- 
ous suit  of  apartments,  upon  which  Mr.  Sutherland 
had  spared  no  amount  of  care  or  expense — having 
summoned  from  New  Orleans  a  French  artiste,  of  dis- 
tinguished genius  in  his  profession,  to  superintend 
their  interior  architecture,  furnishing  and  adornment. 

The  suit  consists  of  a  boudoir,  two  drawing-rooms, 
a  hall  or  picture  gallery,  a  music  room,  a  double 


THE  PLANTER'S  DAUGHTER.  47 

parlour,  a  library,  and  dining  and  breakfast  rooms ; 
and,  by  the  machinery  of  grooved  doors,  all  these 
splendid  apartments  may  be  thrown  into  one  magnifi- 
cent saloon. 

But  the  most  finished  and  perfect  of  the  suite  is  the 
luxurious  boudoir  of  India.  It  is  a  very  bower  of 
beauty  'and  love,  a  chef  d'ceuvre  of  artistic  genius,  a 
casket  worthy  to  enshrine  the  Pearl  of  Pearl  Eiver. 

There  she  reposes  in  the  recess  of  the  bay  window, 
"silk-curtained  from  the  sun."  This  bay  window  is 
the  only  one  in  the  apartment ;  it  is  both  deep  and 
lofty,  and  is  a  small  room  in  itself.  It  is  curtained 
off  from  the  main  apartment  by  drapery  of  purple 
damask  satin,  lined  with  gold-coloured  silk,  and  fes- 
tooned by  gold  cords  and  tassels.  The  interior  of  the 
recess  is  draped  with  thin  gold-coloured  silk  alone ; 
and  the  evening  light,  glowing  through  it,  throws  a 
warm,  rich,  lustrous  atmosphere  around  the  form  of 
Oriental  beauty,  reposing  on  the  silken  couch  in  the 
recess. 

It  is  a  rare  type  of  beauty,  not  easy  to  realise  by 
your  imagination,  blending  the  highest  charms  of  the 
spiritual,  the  intellectual,  and  the  sensual,  in  seeming 
perfect  harmony ;  it  is  a  costly  type  of  beauty,  pos- 
sessed often  only  at  a  fearful  discount  of  happiness; 
it  is  a  dangerous  organisation,  full  of  fatality  to  its 
possessor  and  all  connected  with  her ;  for  that  lovely 
and  voluptuous  repose  resembles  the  undisturbed 
serenity  of  the  young  leopardess,  or  the  verdant  and 
flowery  surface  of  the  sleeping  volcano.  It  is  a  richly 
and  highly  gifted  nature,  but  one  that,  more  than  all 
others,  requires  in  early  youth  the  firm  and  steady 
guidance  of  the  wise  and  good,  and  that  in  after  life 


48  INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

needs  the  constant  controlling  influence  of  Christian 
principle. 

India  Sutherland  has  never  known  another  guide 
than  her  own  good  pleasure.  "Queen  o'er  herself" 
she  is  not,  indeed,  unhappily ;  but  queen  instead  over 
father  and  lover,  friends,  relatives,  and  servants.  In 
truth  hers  is  a  gentle  and  graceful  reign.  It  could 
not  be  otherwise,  over  subjects  so  devoted  as  hers. 
All  of  them,  from  Mr.  Sutherland  her  father,  down  to 
Oriole  her  bower-maid,  deem  it  their  best  happiness 
to  watch,  anticipate,  and  prevent  her  wants ;  and  she 
is  pleased  to  repay  such  devotion  with  lovely  smiles 
and  loving  words.  She  is,  indeed,  the  tamest  as  well  as 
the  most  beautiful  young  leopardess  that  ever  sheathed 
claws  and  teeth  in  the  softest  down.  She  is  no  hypo- 
crite ;  she  is  perfectly  sincere ;  but  her  deepest  nature 
is  unawakened,  undeveloped.  She  knows  no  more, 
no,  nor  as  much,  as  you  now  do,  of  the  latent  strength, 
fire,  and  cruelty  of  those  passions  which  opposition 
might  provoke.  There  she  lay,  as  unconscious  of  the 
seeds  of  selfishness  and  tyranny  as  Nero  was,  when, 
at  seventeen  years  of  age,  he  burst  into  tears  at  sign- 
ing the  first  death-warrant.  Awful  spirits  sleep  in  the 
vasty  depths  of  our  souls — awful  in  goodness  or  in 
evil — and  vicissitudes  are  the  Glendowers  that  can 
call  them  forth.  There  she  lies,  all  unconscious  of  the 
coming  struggle,  "  a  perfect  form  in  perfect  rest."  A 
rich  dress  of  light  material,  yet  dark  and  brilliant 
colours,  flows  gracefully  around  her  beautiful  figure. 
She  reclines  upon  a  crimson  silken  couch,  her  face 
slightly  turned  downwards,  her  head  supported  by 
her  hand,  and  her  eyes  fixed  upon  a  book  that  lies 
open  upon  the  downy  pillow ;  a  profusion  of  smooth, 


THE  PLANTER'S  DAUGHTER.  49 

shining,  amber-hued  ringlets  droop  around  her  grace- 
ful Grecian  head  ;  her  eyebrows  are  much  darker,  and 
are  delicately  pencilled ;  her  eyelashes  are  also  dark 
and  long,  and  shade  large  eyes  of  the  deepest  blue ; 
her  complexion  is  very  rich,  of  a  clear  warm  brown, 
deepening  into  a  crimson  blush  upon  cheeks  and  lips 
the  brighter  and  warmer  now  that  the  book  beneath 
her  eyes  absorbs  her  quite.  The  light  through  the 
golden-hued  drapery  of  the  window  pours  a  warm, 
subdued  effulgence  over  the  whole  picture.  On  a 
cushion  below  her  couch  sits  a  little  quadroon  girl, 
of  perfect  beauty,  fanning  her  mistress  with  a  fan  of 
ostrich  plumes ;  and  while  she  sways  the  graceful 
feathers  to  and  fro,  her  dark  eyes,  full  of  affection  and 
innocent  admiration,  are  fixed  upon  the  beautiful 
epicurienne. 

When  the  rising  of  the  evening  breeze  began  to 
swell  the  gold-hued  curtains,  Oriole  dropped  her  fan, 
but  continued  to  sit  and  watch  lovingly  the  features 
of  her  lady.  When  the  purple  shades  of  evening 
began  to  fall  around,  Oriole  arose  softly,  and  drew 
back  the  curtains  on  their  golden  wires,  to  let  in  more 
light  and  air,  revealing  the  terrace  of  roses,  the  lawn 
and  its  groves  and  reservoirs,  and  the  lovely  rose  and 
amber-clouded  Pearl,  rolling  on  between  its  banks 
of  undulating  light  and  shade;  and  giving  to  view, 
besides,  the  figure  of  a  lady  standing  upon  the  ter- 
race of  roses,  and  who  immediately  advanced  smiling, 
and  threw  in  a  shower  of  rose-leaves  over  the  recum- 
bent reader,  exclaiming — 

"Will  that  wake  you?  MonDieu!  What  is  it  you 
are  idling  over?  The  breeze  is  up,  and  playing  a 
prelude  through  the  pine  tops  and  cane-brakes,  and 
3 


50      INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIYEH. 

the  birds  are  about  to  break  forth  in.  their  evening 
song.  Will  you  come  out  ?" 

The  speaker  was  a  lady  of  about  twenty-five  years 
of  age,  of  petite  form,  delicate  features,  dark  and  bril- 
liant complexion,  and  sprightly  countenance,  which 
owed  its  fascination  to  dazzling  little  teeth,  and  ripe 
lips  bowed  with  archness,  great  sparkling  black  eyes 
full  of  mischief,  and  jetty  ringlets  in  whose  very  intri- 
cacies seemed  to  lurk  a  thousand  innocent  conspiracies. 
She  was  dressed  in  mourning,  if  that  dress  could  be 
called  mourning  which  consisted  of  a  fine  light  black 
tissue  over  black  silk,  and  a  number  of  jet  bracelets 
set  in  gold,  that  adorned  the  whitest,  prettiest  arms 
in  the  world,  and  a  jet  necklace  that  set  off  the  white- 
ness of  the  prettiest  throat  and  bosom.  Mrs.  Vivian, 
of  New  Orleans — Annette  Valeria  Vivian — spirituelle 
Valerie — piquant  Nan  I — the  widow  of  a  wealthy  mer- 
chant, a  distant  relative  of  Mrs.  Sutherland  by  her 
mother's  side,  and  now  with  her  step-daughter  on  a 
visit  of  some  weeks  here  at  "  Cashmere." 

"  Ciel!  then  do  you  hear  me?  What  volume  of 
birds  or  flowers  do  you  prefer  to  the  living  birds  and 
flowers  out  here  ?  What  book  (pardieu !)  of  poetry  do 
you  like  better  than  the  gorgeous  pastoral  poem 
spread  around  us  ?  Mon  Dieu !  she  does  not  hear 
me  yet !  India,  I  say  I"  exclaimed  the  impatient 
little  beauty,  throwing  in  another  shower  of  rose 
petals. 

Miss  Sutherland,  languid  and  smiling,  rose  from 
her  recumbent  posture,  and  handed  her  the  volume. 

"  Pope !  by  all  that  is  solemnly  in  earnest !  Pope's 
Essay  on  Man,  by  all  that  is  grave,  serious  and  awful ! 
Why,  I  thought  at  the  very  worst  it  was  some  Flora's 


THE  PLANTER'S  DAUGHTER.  51 

Annual,  or  Gems  of  the  Aviary,  or  some  other  of  the 
embossed  and  gilded  trifles  that  litter  your  rooms. 
But  Pope's  Essay  on  Man !  Why,  I  should  as  soon 
have  expected  to  find  you  studying  a  work  on  tanning 
and  currying!" 

"Oh,  hush,  you  tease!  And  tell  me  what  these 
lines  mean.  I  have  been  studying  them  for  the  last 
half  hour,  and  can't  make  them  out." 

'•'•You  studying!  Ha!  ha!  ha!  You  doing  any- 
thing! By  the  way,  I  have  been  trying  to  discover 
what  office  I  hold  near  the  person  of  our  Queen.  I 
have  just  this  instant  found  out  that  I  am  thinker  in 
ordinary  to  her  gracious  majesty." 

"Well,  dear  Nan,  do  credit  to  your  post — think  me 
out  these  lines,"  said  the  beauty,  languidly  sinking 
back  upon  her  couch. 

"  But  what  lines  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  Oriole,  show  them  to  her.  Oh,  never  mind,  you 
don't  know  them.  Hand  me  the  book,  Nan !  Here, 
here  are  the  lines — now  make  out  a  meaning  for  them, 
if  you  can : 

•And  binding  nature  fast  in  fate, 
Left  free  the  human  will.' " 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Vivian,  laughing,  "it  sounds 
very  like — 

•  And  tying  Adam  hand  and  foot, 
Bid  him  get  up  and  walk  !' 

And  it  looks  as  if  it  might  have  been  written  by  Uncle 
Billy  Bothsides!  Ah,  by  the  way,  here  he  comes. 
Talk  of  the  evil  one,  and — you  know  the  rest.  Ah,  I 
shall  be  amused  to  hear  his  opinion  of  the  sentiment 
in  question.  It  is  just  in  his  way." 


52  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

I  am  sure  that  I  shall  never  be  able  to  do  justice  to 
the  gentleman  that  was  now  seen  advancing  from  the 
lawn — Mr.  William  I.  Boiling,  as  he  called  himself; 
Billy  Boiling,  as  he  was  called  by  his  brothers-in-law ; 
Boiling  Billy,  as  called  by  his  boon  companions  of 
the  bowling  alley ;  Uncle  Billy,  by  the  young  people; 
Marse  Billy,  by  the  negroes ;  and  Billy  Bothsides,  by 
everybody  else.  He  was  a  short,  fat,  little  gentleman, 
of  about  fifty  years  of  age,  and  clothed  in  an  immacu- 
late suit  of  white  linen,  with  a  fresh  broad-brimmed 
straw  hat,  which  as  he  walked  he  carried  in  one  hand, 
while  in  the  other  he  flourished  out  a  perfumed  linen 
handkerchief,  with  which  he  wiped  his  face  and  rubbed 
his  head.  His  little  head  was  covered  with  fine  light 
hair,  that  did  not  shade,  but  curled  itself  tightly  off 
from  his  round,  rosy,  good-natured  face,  full  of  cheer- 
fulness, candour,  and  conceit.  The  damper  or  the 
warmer  the  weather,  or  the  more  excited  state  of 
Uncle  Billy's  feelings,  then  the  redder  grew  his  face 
and  the  tighter  curled  off  his  flaxen  hair. 

Mr.  Boiling  was  one  of  those  social  and  domestic 
ne'er-do-weels  of  which  every  large  family  connection 
may  rue  its  specimen — one  of  those  idle  hangers-on 
to  others,  of  which  almost  every  southern  house  does 
penance  with  at  least  one.  He  was  a  brother  of  Mrs. 
Mark  Sutherland,  but  no  credit  to  his  sister  or  their 
mutual  family ;  though,  to  use  his  own  qualifying 
style,  neither  was  he  any  dishonour  to  them.  He  was 
a  bachelor.  He  said  it  was  by  his  own  free  election 
that  he  led  a  single  life,  though  he  vowed  he  very 
much  preferred  a  married  life ',  that  nothing  could  be 
justly  compared  to  the  blessings  of  celibacy,  except 
rhe  beatitude  of  matrimony.  He  compromised  with 


THE  PLANTER'S  DAUGHTER.  53 

the  deficiency  of  every  other  sort  of  importance  by  a 
large  surplus  of  se/f-importance.  He  valued  himself 
mostly  upon  what  he  called  his  cool  blood,  clear 
head,  and  perfect  impartiality  of  judgment.  He  was 
not  to  be  seduced  by  love  or  bribed  by  money  to  any 
sort  of  partisanship.  And  as  there  are  two  sides  to 
most  questions  under  the  sun,  and  as  Mr.  Boiling 
would  look  impartially  upon  positive  and  negative 
at  once,  so  Billy 

"Won  himself  an  everlasting  name." 

He  now  came  up  to  the  bay  window,  wiping  his 
face,  and  fanning  himself,  and  saying — 

"Good  evening,  ladies  I  It  is  a  perfectly  delightful 
evening — though,  to  be  su^e,  it  is  insufferably  warm." 

Mrs.  Yivian  immediately  challenged  him  with,  "  Mr. 
Boiling,  we  are  anxious  to  know  your  opinion  upon 
these  lines  of  Pope ;"  and  she  read  them  to  him,  and 
put  the  book  in  his  hands.  He  took  it,  and  wiped 
his  face,  and  fanned  himself — but  these  cooling  opera- 
tions seemed  to  heat  him  all  the  more,  for  his  face 
grew  very  red  and  his  flaxen  hair  crisped  tightly  as 
he  gazed  upon  the  page,  and  said :  "  Eh,  yes,  that's 
all  right — certainly  1" 

"We  believe  it  right,  but  what  does  it  mean?" 

"  Mean !  Why,  this  is  what  it  means — 

'Binding  nature  fast  in  fate, 
Left  free  the  human  will;' 

certai  nly — yes.' ' 

"Please  to  explain  yourself,  Mr.  Boiling,"  said  the 
widow,  while  India  gazed  on  in  languid  amusement. 

Uncle  Billy  wiped  his  forehead,  and  said,  "Why 


54:  IXDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF  PEAKL   RIVER. 

I  don't  think  ladies  understand  these  grave  theologi- 
cal matters." 

"  No,  but  you  can  enlighten  us,  Mr.  Boiling." 

"You  see  these  lines  comprise  the  profoundest  pro- 
blems of  philosophy — so  profound  as  to  perplex  the 
understandings  of  the  greatest  scholars  and  philoso- 
phers that  have  ever  lived ;  so  profound,  in  fact,  as  to 
be  quite  unintelligible  even  to  me — yet  so  simple  as 
to  be  easily  comprehended  by  the  narrowest  intellect 
— so  simple  as  to  be  clear  even  to  you,  or  to  Fly 
here." 

This  was  said  of  a  small  boy  who  at  that  instant 
appeared  with  a  basket  of  oranges. 

"  Fly,  do  you  know  what  your  master  William  is 
talking  about  ?" 

"Yes,  ma'am ;  politics." 

"Exactly,"  smiled  Valeria;  "go  on,  Mr.  Boiling." 

"Heml  Observe,  Mrs.  Vivian,  that  there  is  an  ana- 
logy all  through  nature — physical,  mental,  moral, 
spiritual." 

"  Yes.     Fly,  listen — what  is  he  talking  about  now  ?" 

"  Physic  and  sparrits,  ma'am." 

"  That  is  right.     Pray  go  on,  Mr.  Boiling." 

"  Yes  ;  permit  me  to  seat  myself." 

Uncle  Billy  let  himself  cautiously  down  upon  the 
green  turf.  Valeria  gave  her  hand  to  India,  who 
stepped  out  upon  the  terrace  and  seated  herself.  Mrs. 
Vivian  sank  down  near  her.  Oriole  placed  herself 
by  her  mistress,  with  the  plume  fan.  Fly  stood  a 
short  distance  off,  with  his  basket  of  oranges. 

The  tall  rose  trees,  blown  by  the  breeze,  shed  cool- 
ness and  fragrance  over  the  party.  The  beautiful  va- 
riegated lawn,  with  its  groves,  ponds,  and  parterres, 


THE  PLANTER'S  DAUGHTER.  55 

stretched  out  before  them;  and  below  it  flowed  on, 
between  its  banks  of  purple  shadow,  the  limpid  Pearl, 
with  the  evening  light  fast  fading  from  its  white 
bosom. 

"Now,  then,  Mr.  Boiling!" 

"Now,  then,  Mrs.  Vivian!  I  said  that  there  was  an 
analogy  running  through  the  universe  of  nature;  thus, 
the  centripetal  and  centrifugal  forces,  that  modify 
each  other's  power,  and  regulate  the  motions  of  the 
planetary  systems,  correspond  exactly  to  predestina- 
tion and  free  will" — 

"Do  you  understand  him  now,  Fly?" 

"No,  ma'am;  Marse  Billy's  too  deep  for  me  now." 

"  And  for  me  too,  Fly ;  put  down  your  basket  now, 
and  go,  Fly.  I  dislike  to  see  a  poor  child  tiring  him- 
self, first  upon  one  foot,  and  then  upon  the  other ;  it 
puts  me  ill  at  ease." 

"Yes,  go!  you  sickly  little  wretch,  you!  I  wonder 
how  you  think  the  ladies  like  to  have  such  an  ugly 
little  attenuated  black  shrimp  as  you  are  about  them; 
and  I'm  astonished  at  the  gardener  for  presuming  to 
send  you  here.  Be  off  with  you,  and  never  show 
your  face  again,"  said  Master  Billy,  growing  very  red 
in  the  face  with  zeal  and  gallantry. 

Little  Fly  looked  first  surprised  and  grieved,  and 
tnen  penitent  on  the  score  of  his  sickness  and  de- 
formity, and  set  down  his  basket  and  turned  to  go. 

"  Please  don't  scold  him,  Mr.  Boiling ;  it's  not  his 
fault,  poor  little  fellow!  -  It  was  I  who  asked  Mr. 
Sutherland  to  take  him  from  the  field  and  place  him 
in  the  garden,  because  it  is  shadier  there,  and  the 
work  is  lighter.  Everybody  cannot  be  strong  and 
handsome — can  they,  Fly  ?"  And  the  gentle  speaker 


66      INDIA.   THE  PEAKL  OF  PEAKL  K1VEK. 

turned  and  laid  her  hand  kindly  upon  the  boy's  head 
and  smiled  encouragingly  in  his  face.  The  child 
looked  up  in  grateful  affection ;  and  the  eyes  of  all 
the  party  were  raised  to  welcome  the  orphan  step- 
daughter of  Mrs.  Vivian.  She  was  a  fair,  pale  girl, 
of  a  gentle,  thoughtful,  pensive  cast  of  countenance 
and  style  of  beauty,  with  which  her  plain  dress  of  deep 
mourning  perfectly  harmonized. 

"Come  and  sit  by  me,  Rosalie,  love,"  said  the 
widow,  making  room  for  the  maiden,  half  embracing 
her  with  one  arm. 

The  kind  girl  put  au  orange  in  the  boy's  hand,  and, 
smiling,  motioned  him  away ;  and  Fly,  no  longer 
mortified,  but  solaced  and  cheerful,  ran  off. 

"Now  proceed,  Mr.  Boiling.  Rosalie,  dove,  Mr. 
Bolliiig  is  explaining  to  us  the  two  great  motive 
powers  of  the  universe ;  the  centripetal,  which  he  says 
means  the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  the  centrifugal,  which 
he  says  means  the  temptation  of  the  demon.  And  we, 
my  love,  are  the  planetary  bodies,  kept  from  extremes 
of  good  and  evil  by  the  opposite  action  of  these  two 
forces.  Is  not  this  it,  Mr.  Boiling  ?" 

"No,  madam;  riol  no!  no!  Lord!  Lord!  Thus  it 
is  to  expose  one's  theories,  especially  to  Mrs.  Vivian 
there,  who  would  wrest  the  plainest  text  of  Scripture 
to  her  own  perdition.  No,  ma'am ;  I  was  about  to  say 
that  the  overruling  will  of  Providence  and  the  free 
agency  of  man  were  the  two  great  motive  powers  of 
the  moral  universe — the  human  free  will,  being  the 
great  inward  and  impulsive  force,  is  the  centrifugal 
or  fly ing-off  power,  and  the  government  of  God  the  cen- 
tripetal or  constraining  power ;  that  in  the  moral  world 
these  two  great  forces  modify  each  other's  action,  just 


THE  PLANTER'S  DAUGHTER.  57 

as  their  prototypes  do  in  the  material  world — keeping 
all  in  healthful  action.  Do  you  understand  me  ?" 

"Do  you  understand  yourself,  Mr.  Boiling?" 

"  Ah,  I  see  you  don't — women  seldom  do  1"  said 
Uncle  Billy,  wiping  his  forehead.  "  Thus,  then,  were 
man  without  free  will — without  the  power  of  working 
out  his  own  salvation,  or  the  privilege  of  sending 
himself  to  perdition,  if  he  desired  it — he  would  no 
longer  be  a  moral  agent,  and,  were  he  never  so  sinless, 
he  would  be  at  the  best  only  a  sinless  puppet,  an 
automaton,  and  God's  creation  would  be  a  dumb  show. 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  were  human  free  will  left 
without  restraint  of  the  Lord's  overruling  government, 
why,  man  would  rush  into  all  sorts  of  extravagances, 
become  a  maniac,  and  convert  God's  order  into  chaos 
again.  But,  both  these  evil  extremes  being  avoided, 
the  Scylla  of  inert,  passive  obedience  is  left  upon  the 
right,  and  the  Charybdis  of  unbridled  license  on  the 
left,  and  all  goes  on  well  and  harmoniously.  And  now 
I  hope  you  understand  how  it  is  that  in  '  binding 
nature  fast  in  fate,'  God  still  left  free  the  human 
will." 

"No,  I  do  not;  it  seems  to  me  that  we  are  free 
agents,  or  we  are  not  free  agents — one  or  the  other." 

"  We're  both,  I  assure  you — both.  Truth  generally 
lies  between  extremes.  I  have  known  that  all  my 
life,  and  acted  upon  it.  We  are  free  agents,  and  we 
are  not — that  is  to  say,  we  are  free  agents  within  a 
certain  limit,  and  no  further.  And  observe,  my  dear 
Mrs.  Yivian,  and  my  dear  girls !  within  tliat  limit 
we  have  still  room  enough  to  save  or  to  lose  our  souls/" 

This  speech  was  concluded  with  so  much  solemnity 
of  manner,  that  it  imposed  a  silence  on  the  little 


58  INDIA.      THE   PEAUL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

circle,  that  might  have  lasted  much  longer  than  it  did, 
had  Mr.  Boiling  been  disposed  to  repose  on  his  laurels, 
lie  was  not. 

"  Now,  are  you  satisfied,  madam  ?"  he  inquired  of 
Mrs.  Vivian. 

The  little  lady  shook  her  jetty  ringlets,  and  slowly 
picked  her  marabout  fan  to  pieces. 

"  I  think  mamma  wishes  to  know  why  these  things 
need  be  so,"  said  Eosalie. 

"  My  sweet  Miss  Vivian,  little  maidens  should  be 
seen,  and  not  heard." 

"  Don't  tempt  Mr.  Boiling  beyond  his  depth,  Rosa- 
lie," smiled  the  widow ;  and  not  suiting  the  action  to 
the  word,  she  handed  Uncle  Billy  an  orange  she  had 
just  peeled. 

The  little  gentleman  received  the  attention  with  a 
deprecating,  humble  bow,  and,  to  prevent  inconve- 
nient questioning,  turned  to  Miss  Sutherland,  and 
inquired  when  she  had  heard  from  her  cousin  Mark, 
winking  with  what  he  supposed  to  be  a  killing  leer. 

The  beauty  slightly  raised  her  lip  and  arched  her 
brows,  but  deigned  no  other  answer. 

"Oh,  she  has  not  heard  from  Mr.  Sutherland  for 
three  whole  days,  and  his  last  letter  was  but  twelve 
pages  long.  I  am  afraid  he  is  fickle,  like  the  rest.  I 
should  not  wonder  if  he  were  now  the  humble  servant 

of  some  northern  blue .  It  is  written,  '  put  not 

your  trust  in' — pantaloons.  Men  are  so  uncertain," 
said  Valeria. 

"  Men  are  so  uncertain  1  What  men  ?  Uncertain 
in  what  respect  ?" 

"  All  men  are  uncertain,  in  all  things !" 

"  Humph,  that  is  a  totally  unfounded  calumny  on 


THE  PLANTER'S  DAUGHTER.  59 

our  sex ;  though,  to  be  candid,  I  acknowledge  it  is 
but  too  true  of  all  men,  without  a  single  exception — 
save  myself!" 

"You?  Oh,  dear,  oh!  Ha!  ha!  ha!   You!" 

"  Yes,  me !  In  what  did  you  ever  find  me  uncer- 
tain?" 

"In  what?  Oh,  heavens!  he  asks  in  what!  Why, 
in  all  things — mental,  moral,  and  physical!  In  reli- 
gion, politics,  and  morality !  In  friendship,  love,  and 
truth!  In  war,  courtship,  and  money!  In  one  word, 
you  are  a  thorough,  essential,  organic  uncertainty. 
Other  people  are  uncertain — you  are  uncertainty. 
I  think,  in  the  day  of  general  doom,  you  will  find 
yourself — nothing  in  nowhere!" 

Uncle  Billy  turned  away  from  this  unmerciful 
philippic,  and  again  asked  Miss  Sutherland  if  she  had 
lately  heard  from  her  cousin. 

"  I  have  not  heard  from  him  for  two  weeks,"  re- 
plied the  young  lady,  in  a  low  voice,  and  without 
raising  her  eyes. 

"Nan,  what  would  you  give  me  for  a  letter?"  in- 
quired Mr.  Boiling,  rolling  his  little  blue  eyes  merrily, 
as.  he  drew  one  from  his  pocket  and  laid  it  before  her. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Boiling!  have  you  had  this  letter  all  this 
time,  and  detained  it  from  me?"  said  the  beauty,  re- 
proachfully, as  she  took  it,  and,  excusing  herself, 
withdrew  into  the  house  to  peruse  it. 

"  Come,  Eosalie,  this  night  air  is  deadly  to  you,  my 
child." 

"  Oh,  mamma,  see,  the  full  moon  is  just  rising  over 
those  purple  hills.  I  only  want  to  see  it  reflected  in 
the  river,  and  then  I  will  come." 

"Are  you  moon-struck,  then,  Rosalie?     Come  in; 


00  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

you  can  safely  view  the  scene  from  the  house.  Be- 
sides, coffee  is  about  to  be  served." 

And  the  lady  gave  her  hand  to  her  step-daughter 
and  assisted  her  to  arise,  and  then  tenderly  drawing 
the  girl's  arm  within  her  own,  turned  to  lead  her  into 
the  house.  And  Mr.  Boiling  lifted  himself  up,  and 
picking  up  his  straw  hat,  said — 

"And  I  must  go  down  to  the  cotton-mills,  and 
make  Clement  Sutherland  come  home  to  his  supper. 
Heigh-ho!  it's  an  incontrovertible  fact,  that  if  I  did 
not  walk  after  that  man  and  take  care  of  him,  he'd 
kill  himself  in  the  pursuit  of  gain  in  one  month. 
Everything  is  forgotten — mental  culture  and  bodily 
comfort.  I  have  to  bully  him  to  his  breakfast,  and 
dragoon  him  to  his  dinner,  and  scare  him  to  his  sup- 
per. If  things  go  on  in  this  way,  I  shall  have  to  cut 
up  his  food  and  place  it  to  his  lips.  He  is  growing 
to  be  a  monomaniac  on  the  subject  of  money-getting. 
He  is  as  thin  as  a  whipping-post,  and  about  as  en- 
livening to  look  upon.  He  looks  like  a  weasel  in  the 
winter  time,  all  skin  and  hair,  and  cunning  and  care ! 
He  looks  as  if  he  felt  poor  in  the  midst  of  all  his  pos- 
sessions, and  I  suppose  he  really  does  ;  while  here  arn 
I,  without  a  sous,  cent,  markee,  happy  as  a  king,  and 
much  more  at  leisure;  eating  hearty,  and  sleeping 
sound,  and  growing  fat;  'having  nothing,  yet  pos- 
sessing all  things,'  according  to  Scripture,  and  without 
a  care  in  life,  except  to  keep  Clement  from  sharing 
the  fate  of  Midas,  and  starving  in  the  midst  of  gold. 
And,  by-the-by,  that  is  another  heathen  myth,  with  an 
eternal,  awful  truth  wrapped  up  in  it.  Heigh-bol. 
Well,  here's  to  bring  him  home  to  his  supper.  And 
a  hot  time  1  shall  have  of  it,  between  him  and  the  in- 


THE  PLANTER'S  DAUGHTER.  61 

fernal  machinery!  I  shall  not  get  the  thunder  of  the 
mills  out  of  my  ears,  or  the  shower  of  cotton-lint  out 
of  my  eyes,  nose,  and  throat,  the  whole  night !  Oriole, 
is  that  you  ?  Do  you  go  and  tell  the  housekeeper, 
child,  to  have  something  comforting  prepared  for  your 
poor  master.  He's  had  nothing  since  breakfast;  I 
couldn't  find  him  at  dinner-time.  He  was  gone,  devil 
knows  where,  to  inspect,  devil  knows  what !  He  is 
the  only  southerner  I  ever  did  know  to  give  himself 
up  so  entirely  to  the  worship  of  Mammon,  and  the 
only  one,  I  hope,  I  ever  shall  know  I" 

And,  having  eased  his  mind  by  this  fit  of  grum- 
bling, Uncle  Billy  waddled  off  on  his  benevolent 
errand  to  the  mills. 

In  the  meantime  Mrs.  Vivian  conducted  her  step- 
daughter into  the  drawing-room  communicating  with 
Miss  Sutherland's  boudoir.  The  room  was  now  bril- 
liantly lighted  up,  but  vacant  of  the  family.  The 
broad  doors  were  slidden  back  into  the  walls,  reveal- 
ing the  boudoir  in  its  rich-toned  gloom  and  gleam  of 
purple  and  gold;  and  India  herself,  standing  in  the 
midst,  quite  lost  in  thought,  with  one  jewelled  hand 
pressing  back  the  amber  ringlets  from  her  forehead, 
and  the  other  hanging  down  by  her  side,  clasping  the 
letter  of  Mr.  Sutherland.  So  deeply  troubled  and 
perplexed  was  her  look,  that  Valeria  impulsively 
sprang  to  her  side,  exclaiming,  "What  grieves  you, 
my  dearest  India  ?  No  evil  news,  I  trust  ?" 

Miss  Sutherland  burst  into  tears,  and  silently  handed 
ner  the  letter.  But  before  Valeria  had  turned  it  about 
and  found  the  commencement,  India  recovered  her 
voice,  and  said  in  broken  accents,  "You  know  how 
closely  I  have  kept  his  correspondence  for  the  last 


62  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

few  weeks.  Alas !  1  have  Lad  reason  for  it,  Valeria. 
Little  do  his  uncles  imagine  what  detains  him  at  the 
North.  But  he  conceals  nothing  from  me,  and  he 
lays  the  heavy  responsibility  of  his  confidence  upon 
me.  For  a  month  past  it  has  been  an  onerous  burden 
to  my  conscience." 

"  My  love !  what  has  he  been  doing  there  ?  Has  he 
killed  his  man  in  a  duel,  and  got  himself  in  trouble, 
in  that  frozen  stiff  North,  where  a  gentleman  cannot 
even  shoot  his  rival  in  a  generous  quarrel,  without 
being  put  to  the  inconvenience  of  a  judicial  investi- 
gation ?  I  really  do  suppose  that  is  it,  now !" 

"  Oh,  no !  Would  it  were  only  that !  That  were 
no  dishonour,  at  least.  Oh,  no !  It  is  as  much  worse 
as  it  could  possibly  be!" 

"I  cannot  believe  that  Mr.  Sutherland  would  do 
aught  unworthy  of  a  man  and  a  gentleman." 

"  Woe  to  my  lips  that  they  should  utter  the  charge. 
But  read  his  letter,  Valeria,  and  advise  me,  for  I  am 
deeply  distressed,"  said  Miss  Sutherland ;  and  she 
threw  herself  back  into  a  cushioned  chair,  and  bowed 
her  face  upon  her  hands,  until  all  the  amber  ringlets 
drooped  and  veiled  them. 

Valeria  ran  her  eyes  quickly  over  the  letter,  and 
then  she  threw  herself  into  a  chair — but  it  was  to 
laugh.  Miss  Sutherland  raised  her  head  in  silent  sur- 
prise and  displeasure.  But  still  Valeria  laughed,  till 
the  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks,  holding  up  one  hand 
in  speechless  deprecation,  to  implore  forgiveness  for  a 
mirth  impossible  to  restrain.  When  she  found  her 
voice — "Why,  my  dear,  unsophisticated  girl,  there  is 
nothing  except  a  great  deal  of  food  for  laughter  in 
all  this!  He  has  been  in  New  York  nt  thn  li-M^t-  of 


THE  PLANTER' s  DAUGHTER.  63 

the  annual  fever,  and  has  caught  it !  He  has  been  bit 
by  a  raging  reformer,  and  gone  rabid  1  Not  the  first 
hot-headed  young  southerner  sent  to  a  northern  col- 
lege who  has  fallen  into  the  same  series  of  fevers. 
But  they  all  come  safely  through  it!  When  they) 
find  out  that  to  free  their  slaves  means  just  to  empty 
their  pockets,  and  go  to  work  with  their  own  hands 
or  brains,  you  have  no  idea  how  refrigerating  the 
effect.  Don't  fear  for  Mr.  Sutherland.  He  will  be 
brought  beautifully  out  of  it !  Only  note  it!  he  will 
never  send  a  son  of  his  to  be  educated  at  a  northern 
college.  Come,  cheer  up,  my  love,  and  never  mind 
my  laughing.  Really  it  is  legitimate  food  for  laugh- 
ter! Ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!" 

"  Oh,  don't !  Only  think  of  it,  even  at  its  best ! 
Here,  for  weeks  past,  he  has  been  mingling  freely  with 
these  sort  of  persons — mixing  in  their  assemblies, 
where  people  of  all  colours  and  castes  meet  on  equal 
terms,  in  a  stifling  crowd — oh,  Queen  of  Heaven !  it 
is  a  ruinous  dishonour — an  unspeakable  insult  he  has 
cast  upon  me,  his  betrothed !"  she  exclaimed,  rising 
with  all  the  proud  and  passionate  energy  of  deep  and 
strong  conviction. 

And  again  Mrs.  Vivian  gave  way  to  a  peal  of 
silvery  laughter,  exclaiming,  "Why,  you  simple 
maiden  I  gentlemen  will  do  such  odd  things,  because 
you  see  they  (poets  excepted)  have  no  instincts — not 
even  any  original  ideas  of  refinement.  But  be  com- 
forted !  He  comes  to  us  by  sea,  and  will  have  passed 
through  several  hundred  miles  of  salt  sea  wind  before 
he  reaches  your  fragrant  boudoir." 

"  Do  not  pursue  this  subject !     Do  not,  Valeria !    Do 


64  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

not  press  it  upon  me  so  I  It  wrongs,  it  injures  me — 
1  feel  it  does  1"  said  India,  with  energetic  earnestness. 

"  I  never  saw  you  so  deeply  and  strongly  moved 
before — nonsense!  But  indeed  I  must  have  my  laugh 
out  with  somebody !  It  is,  besides,  too  good  to  keep 
— this  ludicrous  secret !  Ah,  here  comes  Mr.  Boiling, 
with  Uncle  Clement  in  his  wake,  no  doubt,  for  he 
went  to  fetch  him  1  I  must  tell  Uncle  Clement  of  his 
son-in-law's  conversation  or — die. 

"Uncle,  Uncle  Clement!  what  do  you  think  has 
happened  to  Mark  ?  Listen,"  exclaimed  the  vivacious 
lady,  running  off  with  the  letter.  Miss  Sutherland 
sprang  and  caught  her  hand,  and,  pale  as  death,  cried 
out,  "  On  your  life,  Valeria — on  your  soul !  You  do 
not  know  my  father ;  he  abhors  those  sects  with  an 
exterminating  fury  of  hatred !  Give  me  the  letter ! 
Nay,  now  by  your  honour,  Valeria  !  It  was  a  sacred 
confidence.  Give  me  the  letter!"  and  she  wrested 
the  contended  paper  away  from  the  giddy,  laughing, 
little  lady. 

"Heycfa?//  What  the  mischief  is  all  this?  A  re- 
gular romp  or  wrestle  ?  Let  me  put  down  my  hat, 
and  I'll  stand  by  and  see  fair  play,"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Boiling,  who  had  just  entered. 

Blushing  with  anger  at  having  suffered  herself  to 
be  surprised  out  of  her  usual  repose  of  manner,  Miss 
Sutherland  sat  down  in  silent  dignity,  while  Mrs. 
Vivian,  still  laughing,  inquired,  "Where  is  uncle?" 

"Where?  Yes!  ' Echo  answers  where ?'  He  has 
not  been  home  to  breakfast  nor  dinner,  and  now  I 
suppose  he'll  not  be  here  to  supper.  I  went  down  to 
the  mill  to  bring  him  home  to  supper ;  he  was  not 
there!  Guess  where  he  was?  Gone  over  the  other 


THK    PLANTERS    Ii.U'GHTKR.  ('<•> 

side  of  the  river,  to  preside  at  the  lynching  of  an  jm • 
cendiary.  Upon  my  sacred  word  and  honour!"  ex- 

— --JL  J 

claimed  Uncle  Billy,  growing  crimson  in  the  face, 
"the  most  cruel,  unjust,  unwarrantable  proceeding  I 
ever  heard  of  in  all  my  life ;  though,  to  be  perfectly 
fair,  I  must  say  it  serves  the  fellow  exactly  right." 

"Apropos — what  did  I  tell- you,  Valeria?"  said  Miss 
Sutherland,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  And,  now,  what  is  this  mighty  mystery  that  must 
be  concealed  from  Clement?" 

Mrs.  Yivian  and  Miss  Sutherland  exchanged  glances, 
and  the  latter  replied  :  "It  is  a  letter  from  Mr.  Suther- 
land, sir,  that  concerns  myself  alone,  and  I  do  not 
choose  to  make  its  contents  public,  even  at  the  sug- 
gestion of  my  dear  esteemed  friend  here." 

"Ah!  Umph — hum!  Yes!  But  now,  my  dear 
child,  let  me  say  one  word.  Young  people  are  foolish, 
and  need  to  be  counselled  by  the  wisdom  of  age. 
Observe,  therefore,  what  I  say,  and  be  guided  by  my 
advice.  There  is  no  circumstance  or  combination  of 
circumstances  whatever,  that  will  justify  you  in  with- 
holding any  secret  from  your  father;  nevertheless,  I 
am  bound  to  say  that  nothing  under  the  sun  could 
excuse  you  in  betraying,  even  to  him,  the  confidence 
of  your  betrothed  husband.  Now,  I  hope  you  under- 
stand your  duiy!  At  least,  you  have  my  advice!" 
said  Uncle  Billy,  wiping  his  head,  after  which  he 
placed  his  handkerchief  in  his  straw  hat,  seated  him- 
self, and  put  the  hat  upon  the  carpet  between  his  feet 
— all  with  a  look  of  great  self-satisfaction. 

"At  least  the  advice  is  very  practical!"  said  an 
ironical  voice  behind  him.  All  turned  to  see  Mr. 
Sutherland  the  elder,  who  had  silently  entered.  Ho 
4 


66  INDIA.      THE    PKARL   OF    PEARL    H1VK11. 

was  of  an  unusually  tall,  attenuated  form,  with  a 
yellow,  bilious,  cadaverous  face,  whetted  to  the  keen- 
est edge  by  care  and  rapacity,  and  surrounded  by 
hair  and  whiskers  so  long  and  bristling  as  to  give 
quite  a  ferocious  aspect  to  a  set  of  features  that  with- 
out them  would  have  looked  merely  cunning.  lie 
strode  into  the  midst  of  the  circle,  and  standing  be- 
fore his  daughter,  demanded  in  an  authoritative  tone, 
"  Give  me  that  letter,  Miss  Sutherland  1"  She  turned 
deadly  pale,  but  without  an  instant's  hesitation  arose 
to  her  feet,  placed  the  letter  in  her  bosom,  and  stood 
fronting  him. 

Seeing  that  the  matter  was  about  to  take  a  very 
serious  turn,  Mrs.  Vivian  playfully  interfered,  by 
nestling  her  soft  little  hand  into  the  great  bony  one 
of  the  planter,  and  saying,  with  her  bewitching  smile, 
"  Ah,  then,  Mr.  Sutherland,  let  young  people  alone. 
Do  not  rifle  a  young  girl's  little  mysteries.  Remem- 
ber when  you  were  youthful — it  was  not  so  long  ago 
but  what  you  can  remember,  I  am  sure,"  she  said  with 
an  arch  glance.  "  And  when  you  used  to  write  sweet 
nonsense  to  one  beautiful  Cecile,  her  mother,  how 
would  you  have  liked  it  if  the  practical  commercial 
eyes  of  good  Monsieur  Dumoulins  had  read  your 
letters  ?  Come !  give  me  your  arm  to  supper ;  we 
have  waited  for  you  half  an  hour ;"  and  the  lively 
lady  slipped  her  arm  into  his ;  and  Mr.  Sutherland 
with  the  very  ill  grace  of  a  bear  led  captive,  suffered 
himself  to  be  carried  off.  Mr.  Billy  Boiling,  with  a 
flourishing  bow,  gave  his  hand  to  Miss  Sutherland, 
and  Paul  Sutherland  led  Rosalie. 

The  apartment  was  very  pleasant.  The  inner  shut- 
ters of  wire  irau/e,  that  wore  closed  against  the  mos- 


MRS.   SUTHERLAND.  67 

quitoes,  did  not  exclude  the  fresh  and  fragrant  evening 
breeze  that  fanned  the  room.  The  elegant  tea-table 
stood  in  the  midst,  and  the  whole  was  illumined  by 
light  subdued  through  shades  of  ground  glass — not 
figured — but  plain,  and  diffusing  a  soft,  clear,  even 
radiance.  They  sat  down  to  the  table,  and  coffee  and 
tea  were  served  by  waiters  from  the  .sideboard.  To 
dispel  the  last  shades  of  suspicion  and  discontent  from 
the  mind  of  Mr.  Sutherland,  Mrs.  Vivian  remarked : 
"  We  are  to  have  Mr.  Mark  Sutherland  home  in  a  very  few 
days,  if  I  understand  aright.  N^est  ce pas,  chere Indie?'1'1 
Miss  Sutherland  only  bowed,  and  the  conversation 
turned  upon  their  approaching  voyage  to  Europe. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

MRS.  SUTHERLAND. 

On  her  cheek  the  autumn  flush 
Deeply  ripens;  such  a  blush 
In  the  midst  of  brown  was  born, 
Like  red  poppies  grown  with  corn. 
Round  her  eyos  her  tresses  lay — 
Which  are  blackest,  none  can  say; 
But  long  lashes  veil  a  light 
That  had  else  been  all  too  bright. — Hood. 

ON  the  opposite  side  of  the  Pearl  from  Cashmere, 
and  a  little  further  down  the  river,  and  back  from  its 
banks,  in  a  small  vale  embosomed  in  hills,  was  Silent- 
shades,  the  home  of  Mark  Sutherland.  The  homestead 
was  the  same  that  had  been  built  by  his  father,  upon 
first  laying  out  the  plantation.  The  house  was  very 


68      INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RTVER. 

modest  and  unpretending — a  moderate-sized,  oblong 
building  of  two  stories,  painted  light  brown,  with 
green  shutters,  and  with  piazzas  surrounding  both 
floors.  The  house  was  shaded  and  darkened  by  catalpa 
trees  clustering  thick  about  it  and  overhanging  the 
roof.  The  pillars  of  the  piazzas  were  thickly  twined 
with  running  vines,  that,  branching  and  interlacing, 
formed  a  beautiful  treillage  of  foliage  and  flowers. 
Doors  from  this  piazza  admitted  directly  into  the 
rooms  upon  the  first  floor.  In  the  right-hand  front 
room,  opening  upon  two  sides  into  the  piazza,  upon 
the  next  evening  after  the  events  related  in  the  last 
chapter,  sat  Mrs.  Sutherland.  She  was  a  medium- 
sized,  full-formed  brunette,  of  perhaps  forty  years  of 
age ;  yet  so  perfect  was  her  physical  organization,  and 
so  well  regulated  her  moral  nature,  so  even,  calm, 
and  blameless  had  been  the  tenor  of  her  life,  that  now, 
she  was  a  specimen — not,  certainly,  of  youthful  beauty 
— but  of  a  rarer  kind  of  matured  and  perfected  matronly 
beauty.  Her  style  was  noble  and  simple.  Her  rich, 
abundant  hair  of  glossy  black,  with  purplish  light,  was 
plainly  di  vided  above  a  broad  forehead,  and  laying  down 
upon  the  temples  in  heavy  looped  bands,  was  carried  be- 
hind and  twisted  into  a  thick,  rich  coil,  and  wound  round 
and  round  into  a  large  knot  fastened  with  pins;  there 
were  no  combs,  curls,  ribbons,  or  fripperies  of  any  sort, 
to  mar  the  simple,  grand  beauty  of  the  head.  The  eye- 
brows were  black  and  lightly  arched;  the  eyes  large, 
dark,  and  very  quiet,  under  their  curtain  of  long  black 
lashes;  the  nose  perfectly  straight;  and  the  cheeks, 
lips,  and  chin,  perfectly  beautiful  in  contour.  Her 
complexion  was  of  that  mellow,  Italian  brown,  flush- 
ing and  deepening  in  tl»n  <>.h<--»Aks  to  a  carnation  richness. 


MKS.    SUTHERLAND.  69 

(ITncle  -Billy,  who  sincerely  admired  his  sister,  always 
said  that  her  complexion  ever  reminded  him  of  the 
bloom  on  a  ripe,  luscious  peach.)  Her  dress  was  very 
simple — a  black  silk  with  a  delicate  lace  collar  pinned 
with  a  small  diamond  brooch.  She  sat  in  an  easy 
chair,  reading  a  letter ;  and  as  she  read  and  turned 
the  leaves  a  quiet  smile  would  just  dawn  and  play  on 
her  lips.  By  her  side  was  a  stand  with  an  open  book, 
a  workbox,  and  a  little  silver  handrbell.  At  last, 
without  removing  her  eyes  from  the  letter,  she 
smilingly  extended  her  hand,  and  rang  the  little  bell. 
A  servant  entered,  and  still  without  withdrawing  her 
eyes  from  the  fascinating  letter,  she  said  : 

"  Send  Mrs.  Jolly  to  me,  William." 

The  man  withdrew  with  a  bow,  and  the  house- 
keeper entered,  and  awaited  the  commands  of  the 
lady. 

Slowly  and  smilingly  folding  up  the  letter,  she  said, 
"Mr.  Sutherland  is  coming  home  this  evening.  He 
brings  a  friend,  a  young  gentleman,  with  him.  I  wish 
you  to  have  their  chambers  prepared  ;  and  do  remem- 
ber to  close  the  wire-gauze  blinds,  and  burn  catalpa 
leaves  in  the  rooms,  to- destroy  any  mosquitoes  that 
may  remain." 

"  And  at  what  time  shall  1  order  supper,  madam  ?" 

"  Ah,  yes — it  will  be  necessary  to  put  it  back  two 
or  three  hours.  You  must  judge  of  that.  Mr.  Suther- 
land may  arrive  at  any  time  between  this  and  ten 
o'clock." 

The  housekeeper  left  the  room,  and  the  lady  sank 
into  her  chair  again,  to  re-peruse  her  letter,  smiling 
and  murmuring  to  herself,  half  aloud — "Dear  boy! 
dearest  Mark !  Sure  no  mother  ever  had  a  son  like 


70      INDIA.   THE  PEAKL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

mine.  Comes  to  me  first — comes  to  me  before  hasten- 
ing to  see  his  lady-love — his  adored  India.  Dearest 
Mark — but  his  devotion  shall  be  rewarded.  He  shall 
find  his  India  here."  And  she  went  to  a  writing-desk, 
took  paper,  and  pen,  and  ink,  and  wrote  the  following 
note: 

SILENTSHADES,  June,  184-. 

DEAR  INDIA  :  My  dear  niece,  but  dearer  daughter, 
just  get  into  your  carriage,  and  come  to  me,  and  do 
not  pause  to  wonder  why  I  ask  you.  It  is  late,  I 
know,  but  the  moon  shines  brightly,  and  the  roads 
are  good — your  driver  is  careful,  and  the  distance  is 
short.  More  than  all,  dear  daughter,  I  consider  your 
coming  very  important.  So  hasten,  darling,  to 

Your  affectionate  aunt  and  mother, 
HELEN  B.  SUTHERLAND. 

Having  sealed  this  letter,  the  lady  rang  the  bell  and 
gave  it  in  charge  of  a  footman,  urging  dispatch. 

Soon  a  waiter  entered,  and  lighted  up  the  rooms ; 
and  he  had  scarcely  closed  the  blinds  and  withdrawn, 
before  the  sound  of  carriage-wheels  was  heard  ap- 
proaching, and  the  lady  hastened  out  into  the  hall. 
The  carriage  paused  before  the  door,  and  in  an  instant 
after,  Mark  Sutherland  had  alighted,  and  was  clasped 
to  the  bosom  of  his  mother. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Mark !  I  am  so  overjoyed  to  have 
you  again  1" 

"  Dear  mother,  I  am  so  proud  and  happy  to  find 
you  looking  so  well!  Permit  me  to  present  my 
friend — Mr.  Lincoln  Lauderdale — Mrs.  Sutherland." 

A  low  bow  from  the  gentleman,  and  a  deep  courtesy 


SUTHERLAND.  71 

from  the  lady,  and  then  smilingly  throwing  off  her 
habitual  reserve,  Mrs.  Sutherland  offered  her  hand, 
saying— 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Lauderdale.  You 
are  not  a  stranger,  I  assure  you.  My  son  has  taught 
rne  to  esteem  you,  and  desire  your  friendship.  Will 
you  enter  now  ?" 

And  with  another  smile  she  gave  her  hand  to  her 
guest,  and  permitted  him  to  lead  her  into  the  drawing- 
room. 

Mr.  Sutherland  remained  in  the  hall  to  give  some 
directions  to  the  grooms,  and  to  order  the  baggage 
of  his  guest  to  be  taken  up  to  his  chamber.  After 
which  he  entered  the  parlour,  and  laying  his  hand 
affectionately  upon  his  friend's  shoulder,  said — 

"  My  dear  Lauderdale,  when  you  feel  disposed — 
or,  rather,  if  you  feel  disposed — to  change  your 
dress — Flamingo  will  show  you  your  apartment. 
Supper  will  be  ready — Madame,  when  will  supper  be 
ready?" 

"  My  dear  Mark,  any  time — in  an  hour — an  hour 
and  a  half" 

"In  an  hour,  Lincoln ;  that  will  give  you  ample 
time.  Flame !  lights  here.  Show  Mr.  Lauderdale  to 
his  room,  and  consider  yourself  in  his  exclusive  ser- 
vice while  he  honours  us  with  his  company.  I  pre- 
sume you  will  prefer  Flame,  my  dear  Lincoln,  because 
you  already  know  the  fellow." 

"  Thank  you,  but  really  I  do  not  need" 

"  Oh,  say  not  a  word,  my  dear  boy !  When  you 
have  been  subjected  to  the  enervating  influence  of 
this  climate  for  a  week,  you  will  better  know  what 
you  need.'' 


72  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OK    PEAKL    1UVE1J. 

By  this  time  Flamingo  made  bis  appearance  with 
chamber  lamps.  Lauderdale  arose  to  follow  him. 
Sutherland  accompanied  him  into  the  hall. 

"  My  dear  Mark,"  said  the  former,  "  did  I  under- 
stand you  to  say  that  Mrs.  Sutherland  was  your  own 
mother  ?" 

"  Undoubtedly  my  own  mother !  "What  a  question  ! 
Besides,  my  friend,  pardon  me!  but  really,  whero 
are  your  eyes  ?  We  are  said  to  be  the  image  of  each 
other !" 

"  Well,  now,  although  both  of  you  are  dark,  with 
high  complexions,  I  cannot  see  the  likeness,  to  save 
my  soul,"  said  Lauderdale,  mischievously;  then  ad- 
ding, "  she  is  very  handsome." 

"Is  she  not!"  echoed  Sutherland,  with  enthusiasm, 
and  accompanying  Lauderdale ;  up  stairs — "the  hand- 
somest woman  in  the  world?  oh,  except  one.  You 
should  see  India.  And,  more  than  that,  she — my 
mother,  I  mean — is  the  most  excellent,  except — 
none." 

"I  cannot  think  that  she  was  so  handsome  in  early 
youth  as  she  is  now." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  her  youth  to  her  maturity  was  as 
the  budding  to  the  blooming  rose — that  is  all.  Here 
is  your  room.  Make  Flame  supply  you  with  anything 
you  may  need,  that  is  not  at  hand ;  and  for  your  lii'e — 
nay,  more,  for  your  good  looks,  worth  more  than  lil'e  — 
do  not  open  the  wire  shutters ;  if  you  do,  you  may 
look  in  the  glass  in  ten  minutes  after,  and  fancy  your- 
self ill  with  the  erysipelas.  Au  revoirf  When  you  are 
ready,  come  down." 

Mark  Sutherland  left  the  room,  and  instead  of  seek- 
in.;  hi.s  own  rluiinber,  to  refresh  himself  with  a  change 


MES.   SUTHERLAND.  73 

of  raiment,  he  hastened  down  the  stairs,  entere  1  the 
parlour,  and  once  more  clasped  his  mother  fervently 
in  his  arms,  and — 

"  My  dearest  mother,"  and  "  My  dearest  Mark,"  were 
the  words  exchanged  between  them.  "  But,  oh,  Mark ! 
how  haggard  you  look,  my  love !  You  have  been  ill, 
and  never  let  me  know  it." 

"  No,  upon  my  honour,  mother  I" 

"  Ah,  but  you  are  so  pale  and  thin,  and  your  ex- 
pression is  so  anxious — what  is  it?  What  can  it  be, 
Mark?" 

"  My  own  dear  mother,  it  is  nothing  that  should 
give  you  any  uneasiness.  I  have  had  a  long,  fatiguing 
ride,  and — I  have  not  heard  from  India  for  more  than 
a  week.  How  is  my  Pearl  ?" 

"  Ah,  rogue !  a  lover's  anxiety.  Is  that  the  cause 
of  those  haggard  looks  ?  And  yet,  to  come  to  me 
first !  Dear  Mark  !  But  I  have  anticipated  all  your 
wishes.  Your  India  will  be  here  to  meet  you — I  am 
expecting  her  every  moment.  Hark!  there  are  her 
carriage- wheels  1"  said  the  lady,  going  to  the  window; 
then  hurrying  back,  she  exclaimed,  "Pestef  she  has 
some  one  with  her — that  lively  little  Mrs.  Vivian,  I 
suppose.  Listen,  Mark !  I  will  carry  her  off  to  a 
dressing-room,  and  leave  you  to  meet  India.  She  does 
not  know  that  you  are  here." 

And  Mrs.  Sutherland  went  to  the  hall  door,  which 
she  reached  just  as  Mrs.  Vivian,  who  was  the  first  to 
alight,  entered.  ^ 

"Ah,  how  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Vivian?  I  am  very 
glad  to  see  you!  Come,  come  into  my  room." 

"  Oh,  but  stop — let  us  wait  for  India  1" 

"  By  no  means,  my  dear.     Mark  will  wait  for  her." 


71  INDIA.      THE   FEAKL   OF    PEAUL    RIVER. 

"A-h-h-hf    He  has  come!" 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  lady,  carrying  off  her  captive. 

India  sauntered  languidly  up  the  door-stairs.  Mark 
sprang  forward  to  meet  her.  She  started — paled — 
reeled — might  have  fallen,  but  he  caught  her  to  his 
bosom,  murmuring  deeply,  earnestly,  "India!  my 
India  T 

For  a  moment  she  had  nearly  swooned  with  sur- 
prise and  joy,  but  in  the  next  instant  she  recovered, 
and  deeply  blushing,  withdrew  herself  from  him,  say- 
ing, "  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  here." 

"I  have  only  this  instant  arrived,"  he  replied. 
"  My  dear,  beautiful  India !  to  see  you,  it  is  unspeak- 
able happiness." 

And  he  would  have  clasped  her  form  again,  but 
with  flushed  cheek  she  glided  out  of  his  arms  and 
entered  the  parlour.  He  followed  her,  placed  an  easy 
chair,  seated  her  on  it,  rolled  a  cushion  to  her  feet, 
untied  and  removed  her  bonnet,  lifted  the  mass  of 
shining  amber  ringlets  and  pressed  them  to  his  face, 
and  then  would  have  sunk  down  upon  the  cushion  at 
her  feet — there  to  sit  and  worship  with  his  eyes  her 
peerless  beauty,  only  the  sound  of  light  footsteps  and 
silvery  laughter  arrested  the  folly. 

It  was  Valeria,  who,  chatting  and  laughing  with 
her  usual  gaiety,  entered,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Suther- 
land. Their  entrance  was  soon  followed  by  that  of 
Mr.  Lauderdale,  who  was  immediately  presented  to 
Mrs.  Vivian  and  Miss  Sutherland. 

Supper  was  next  announced,  and  the  party  left  the 
drawing-room.  After  supper,  the  evening  was  spent 
in  music,  conversation,  and  cards.  A  storm  arising. 
detained  the  ladies  all  night.  After  the  party  had 


MRS.   SUTHERLAND.  75 

separated,  each  to  seek  his  or  her  own  apartment, 
Sutherland  stopped  for  an  instant  in  Lauderdale's 
room  to  ask,  "Well,  what  do  you  think  of  her,  Lin- 
coln ?" 

"  She  is  perfectly  beautiful." 

"Is  she  not?" 

"  There  is  positively  nothing  possible  to  be  added 
to  her  beauty  1" 

"Ah,  did  I  not  tell  you  so?" 

"  She  has  taken  me  completely  captive." 

"The  deuce!  I  did  not  require  you  to  be  taken 
captive." 

"  If  I  were  only  in  a  condition  to  seek  the  lady's 
love—" 

"  Humph  !     What  would  you  do,  then  ?'' 

"  Lose  no  time  in  suing  for  it." 

"  The  demon  you  wouldn't !  That  is  extremely  cool, 
upon  my  sacred  word  and  honour !" 

"  Such  glorious  black  eyes  !" 

"  They  are  not  black,  mine  honest  friend,  but  blue 
— celestial  blue." 

"Blue,  are  they?  I  thought  they  were  black;  but, 
in  truth,  one  cannot  follow  their  quickly-changing 
light  and  shade  to  find  the  hue,  they  scintillate  and 
flash  so." 

"Scintillate  and  flash!  Why,  they  are  calm  and 
steady  as  stars.  What  the  deuce  are  her  eyes  to 
you?" 

"And  then  her  magnificent  black  hair!" 

"  Black !  you  are  mad !  Hers  is  bronze  in  the  shade, 

and  golden  in  the  sunlight.  D 1  fly  away  with 

you!"  the  latter  clause  under  his  breath. 

"  I  swear  her  hair  is  superb  black  !" 


76  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

"Who  are  you  talking  about?" 

"Who — who  but  charming  Mrs.  Vivian!" 

"Cousin  Valeria!  Oh-h-h-h!  ha!  ha!  ha!  And/ 
was  speaking  of  India !  So  you  think  Mrs.  Vivian 
good-looking  ?" 

"  Good-looking — divine." 

"  I  thought  no  one  in  his  senses  could  apply  that 
term  to  any  woman  but  Miss  Sutherland." 

"Who — the  red-haired  young  lady?" 

"  Red-haired  /"  burst  out  the  voice  of  Sutherland, 
in  indignant  astonishment ;  then  reining  in  his  anger 
with  a  strong  hand,  he  added,  "  Lincoln,  you  are  my 
friend,  but  there  are  some  provocations" — 

"Miss  Sutherland  is  graceful"  said  Lauderdale,  with 
a  quiet  smile. 

"Tah-tah-tah,  with  your  faint  praises  ;  good-night." 

"  Now,  here  is  a  reasonable  man!  When  he  thought 
me  praising  his  love  with  great  fervour,  he  was  so 
jealous  as  to  feel  like  running  me  through  the  heart ; 
and  now  that  he  finds  me  very  moderate  in  my  admi- 
ration of  his  idol,  he  is  angry  enough  to  sweep  my 
head  off  at  a  blow,"  said  Lauderdale,  laughing. 

"  Good-night !"  said  Sutherland,  to  cover  his  con- 
fusion. 

"  Stay,  I  can't  let  you  go  so ;  your  lady-love  is 
really  lovely  enough  to  turn  all  the  heads  and  break 
all  the  hearts  that  approach  her.  But  she  has  not 
disturbed  the  healthful  action  of  mine — will  that  con- 
tent you  ?" 

"  Yes,  because  I  know  it  is  true — especially  the  first 
part  of  it.  Good-night." 

"  Good-night." 

And  the  friends  separated. 


MRS.  SUTHERLAND.  7t 

"And  is  this  all  you  have  to  say  in  support  of  your 
project,  Mark?" 

"  Not  all,  my  dear  mother." 

The  lady  applied  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes 
quietly,  almost  stealthily ;  her  face  was  pale  and 
sorrowful ;  she  seemed  to  restrain  herself  steadily,  as 
though  she  thought  the  betrayal  of  strong  emotion  j 
unbecoming  to  a  woman  of  her  age  and  station.  Her  • 
son  had  just  revealed  to  her  his  purpose  of  emanci- 
pating all  the  negroes  upon  his  plantation  and  sending 
them  to  Liberia,  with  his  reasons  for  so  doing.  The 
scene  took  place  very  early  in  the  morning  after  his 
arrival.  It  was  in  her  dressing-room.  Before  any  of 
their  guests  had  arisen,  they  were  up,  and  she  had 
called  him,  as  he  passed  her  door.  They  sat  now  at 
the  open  window  that  looked  out  upon  the  beautiful 
valley  of  the  Pearl,  with  its  groves  and  fields  and 
streams  all  fresh  and  resplendent  in  the  light  of  the 
newly-risen  sun.  The  mother  sighed  deeply  as  she 
withdrew  her  glance  from  the  gladdening  scene,  and 
fixed  it  upon  the  face  of  her  sou. 

"And  so,  Mark,  this  is  the  cause  of  your  ill  and 
anxious  looks?" 

"  Yes,  mother ;  I  will  not  deny  to  you  that  it  has 
cost  me  a  very  severe  struggle ;  and  perhaps  you  see 
some  of  its  effects." 

"  Yes,  some  of  them,  Mark — alas !  not  all"  said  the 
lady,  in  a  low,  faint  voice. 

If  a  little  while  before  she  had  restrained  unmeet 
energy  of  expression  in  the  strong  emotion  she  had 
felt,  now  all  power  as  well  as  all  will  seemed  to  forsake 
her.  ^>  t  sat  silent,  with  her  hands  folded  and  her 


78  INDIA.      THE    PEARL    OF    PEARL    RIVER 

eyes  fixed  upon  them.  Mr.  Sutherland  watched  her 
anxiously. 

"  My  dear  madam,  I  have  pained  you." 

"  I  am  a  widow,  Mark,  and  have  no  child  but  you" — 

"Mother" 

"  It  is  a  sorrowful  time  for  the  mother,  Mark,  when 
the  boy  she  has  nursed  and  brought  up  to  man's  estate 
turns  upon  her  in  her  weakness,  arrayed  in  all  the 
strength  and  power  of  manhood." 

"  My  dearest  mother" 

"Your  father,  Mark,  never  caused  me  a  tear  or  a 
sigh  in  his  life." 

"God  bless  his  memory  for  that." 

"  He  trusted  so  in  your  affection  for  me,  Mark — 
and  so  did  I — that  he  left  me  totally  dependent  upon 
you" 

"  My  dearest  mother,  your  comfort  and  convenience 
shall  be  my  first  object  in  life.  Not  even  India,  my 
loved  India,  shall  cause  me  to  forget  all  I  owe  to  you." 

"  Words,  Mark !  words !  This  project  of  yours  will 
reduce  me  to  beggary  I" 

"  No,  dear  madam,  it  shall  not.  Me  it  will  reduce 
to — my  own  exertions  for  a  livelihood,  but  not  you. 
When  all  my  slaves  are  freed,  and  on  their  way  to 
Africa  at  my  cost,  there  will  still  remain,  from  the 
sale  of  the  land,  some  thirty  thousand  dollars.  That 
money,  mother,  with  the  homestead  here,  I  intend  to 
settle  upon  yourself" 

"  Oh,  rny  son !  you  break  my  heart.  Do  you  think, 
then,  that  I  will  suffer  you  to  beggar  yourself  to  en- 
rich me  ?  No,  dear  Mark ;  no !  Since  you  do  not 
forget  me — since  you  remember  me  with  affectionate 
interest,  it  is  sufficient.  If  I  reproached  you  just  now, 


MK.S.    SUTHKKLAXD.  79 

it  was  only  because  I  felt  as  if  you  did  not  care  for 
me  ;  and  that  is  a  sorrowful  feeling  in  a  parent,  Mark." 

"  I  never  for  one  instant  forgot  your  interests,  dear 
mother.  How  could  I?  I  had  settled  the  plan  I 
have  named  to  you,  in  my  mind,  before  I  left  the 
North." 

"  I  cannot  bear  the  name  of  that  quarter  of  our 
country !  the  word  strikes  like  a  bullet,  Mark !"  ex- 
claimed the  lady,  with  an  impulsive  start,  and  shrunk 
as  if  indeed  she  were  shot. 

Mr.  Sutherland  looked  down,  mortified  and  troubled. 

"And  as  for  this  plan,  Mark,"  proceeded  the  lady, 
"  it  must  not  be  carried  out.  Under  no  circumstances 
can  I  consent  that  you  beggar  yourself  for  me." 

"  Dearest  mother,  I  do  not  think  it  possible  for  mere 
loss  of  fortune  to  beggar  a  man  of  good  health  and 
good  morals.  I  shall  go  to  the  West.  It  is  a  broad 
field  for  enterprise.  I  studied  law  for  my  amusement, 
having  had  a  strong  natural  attraction  for  it;  I  shall 
commence  the  practice  of  that  profession  in  some 
western  village,  and  grow  up  with  the  town.  I  shall 
succeed.  Indeed,  methinks  new  life  and  energy  runs 
through  my  veins  and  fires  my  heart  at  the  very 
thought  of  difficulties  to  meet  and  overcome !"  said 
Mr.  Sutherland,  smiling  gaily,  stretching  his  arms  and 
rubbing  his  hands  together 

"Alas!  you  do  not  know  what  you  are  talking 
about,  Mark  !  What  a  project !  And  your  approach- 
ing marriage  with  India — is  it  possible  in  this  con- 
nexion that  you  do  not  think  of  that  ?" 

"  Not  think  of  that !"  echoed  Mr.  Sutherland,  as  a 
strange,  beautiful  smile  flitted  over  his  face.  "  Mo- 
ther, I  dreaded  this  interview  with  you ;  but  I  looked 


80      INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVEK. 

forward  to  an  explanation  with  my  loved  India  as  the 
first  reward  of  right-doing — if  what  I  have  done  is 
right — a  foretaste  of  what  the  rewards  of  Heaven  will 
be!  My  India!  I  know  her  generosity,  her  magna- 
nimity, her  high-souled  enthusiasm!  How  many 
times  I  have  experienced  it !  How  many  times,  when 
reading  with  her  of  some  high  heroism  of  the  olden 
time,  when  there  were  heroes,  have  I  seen  her  pause, 
her  bosom  heave,  her  cheek  flush,  her  eye  kindle  and 
gaze  upon  me,  expressing  unspeakable  admiration  of 
those  lofty  deeds !  And  now,  when  in  her  own  life 
an  opportunity  occurs  of  practising  those  very  same 
greajLvirtues — when  she  has  the  power,  by  sacrificing 
wealth  and  luxury,  to  bless  hundreds  of  her  fellow- 
beings,  and  not  them  only,  but  their  children  and 
children's  children — do  I  not  know  that  high-souled 
girl  will  aspire  to  do  it !  Madam,  it  is  a  majestic,  a 
godlike  power,  to  be  able  to  confer  the  blessing  of 
liberty  and  education  upon  hundreds  of  beings  and 
their  descendants  to  numberless  generations — a  power 
I  would  not  now  exchange  for  a  small  limited  mo- 
narchy. And,  oh !  do  I  not  know  that  my  India — 
soul  of  my  soul ! — will  think  as  I  do — will  feel  as  I 
do  ?  Nay,  do  I  not  know  that  she  will  go  beyond 
me?  Mother,  when  I  have  doubted,  or  struggled 
against  my  better  feelings,  I  have  seen  as  in  a  vision, 
her  eyes  suffused  with  generous  tears,  her  cheek  kin- 
dle, and  felt  the  warm  pressure  of  her  hand  encour- 
aging, inspiring  me !" 

"  Oh,  Mark  !  Mark  !  romance  !  nothing  more.  And 
even  should  India  approve  your  project,  which  I  think 
quite  impossible,  what  is  your  further  purpose?  To 
leave  her  here,  bound  by  an  engagement,  to  wear  on* 


Mliri.    SUTHEKLANJ).  81 

her  youth  in  expectation  of  your  making  a  fortune 
and  coming  back  to  claim  her  hand  ?" 

"  No,  dearest  mother,  that  were  too  hard  a  trial  to 
both  of  us.  No,  I  mean  to  take  her  with  me  to  the 
West,  to  encourage  and  assist  me  while  I  make  her 
as  happy  as  I  possibly  can !" 

Here,  again,  the  lady's  feelings  arose  to  so  high  a 
pitch  of  excitement  that  she  had  to  put  a  violent  con- 
straint upon  herself,  while  she  answered  quietly, 
"And  how  do  you  think  Miss  Sutherland  will  like  to 
lay  aside  all  the  prestige  of  her  rank,  and  wealth,  and 
bridehood,  and,  instead  of  a  splendid  wedding,  and  a 
bridal  tour,  and  a  voyage  to  Europe,  take  an  ignomi- 
nious departure  from  her  father's  house,  for  a  life  of 
poverty  and  privation  in  the  West?" 

"  I  told  you,  dearest  mother,  that  my  India  was  of 
a  highly  heroic  nature.  That  does  not  mean  wedded 
to  ease  and  worldly  honour;  indeed,  it  more  fre- 
quently means  the  loss  of  both." 

"  And  so  you  deliberately  mean  to  take  that  girl — 
if  she  will  go  with  you — to  some  miserable  western 
village,  to  endure  all  the  miseries  of  poverty  ?" 

"What  miseries  of  poverty,  dearest  mother?  If 
you  were  a  European  talking  of  Europeans,  I  could 
understand  your  prudence;  but  you  are  an  American 
matron  talking  to  an  American  youth,  and  advising 
him  not  to  marry  the  girl  he  loves  if  he  has  not  a  fur- 
tune  to  support  her.  It  seems  to  me,  mother,  that  in 
our  country  the  man  or  woman  who  refuses  to  marry 
for  such  a  reason,  wants  faith,  love,  hope,  enterprise, 
energy,  and  every  thing  they  ought  to  have ;  and 
under  such  circumstances,  it  seems  but  right,  indeed, 
that  they  should  stay  single." 
5 


82      INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

"You  do  not  know  what  you  are  talking  about. 
But  should  India  be  so  imprudent,  do  you  think  her 
father  will  consent  to  such  a  mad  project  ?" 

"  His  consent  to  our  union  was  long  ago  obtained ; 
and  if,  under  present  circumstances,  he  should  with- 
draw it — India  is  of  age,  3*011  know !" 

"  Mark,  tell  me  if  you  have  ever  had  any  experi- 
mental knowledge  of  want?"  The  young  man  looked 
up  with  a  questioning  glance.  "Because  if  you  do 
not  know,  I  can  tell  you,  Mark.  I  know  how  young 
people  think  of  poverty,  and  talk  of  poverty,  when 
any  strong  motive  like  love,  or  any  other  passion, 
urges  them  to  embrace  it ;  and  people  who  are  older, 
and  should  know  better,  talk  pretty  much  in  the 
same  way.  They  will  tell  you  that  poverty  deprives 
you  of  none  of  the  real  essential  blessings  of  life ;  that 
the  riches  of  nature  and  of  nature's  God  are  free  alike 
to  the  rich  and  the  poor;  that  the  blessings  of  health, 
of  well-doing,  of  sunshine,  and  the  face  of  nature,  are 
open  alike  to  both.  It  is  so  with  the  rich,  doubtless, 
and  it  may  be  so  with  the  poor  who  were  born  in  this 
poverty ;  but  to  the  well-born  and  well-educated,  to 
the  refined  and  intellectual,  poverty  is  a  dreadful, 
,  dreadful  thing.  It  is  not  only  to  suffer  the  privation 
of  proper  and  sufficient  food,  and  comfortable  clothing, 
and  dwelling — it  is  to  be  shut  out  of  all  enjoyment 
of  the  blessings  of  nature  and  of  society,  and  at  the 
s;une  time  be  exposed  to  all  the  evils  that  nature  and 
society  can  inflict  upon  you.  You  have  no  leisure,  or 
if  you  have,  you  have  no  respectable  clothing,  in 
which  to  go  out  and  take  the  air,  and  enjoy  the  genial 
sunshine  of  pleasant  days,  on  the  one  hand ;  and  on 
the  other,  no  adequate  protection  against  the  freezing 


MRS.  SUTHERLAND.  83 

cold  of  winter,  and  no  escape  from  the  burning  heat 
of  summer.  And  for  society,  pride  will  not  permit 
you  to  seek  the  company  of  your  sometime  peers,  and 
delicacy  restrains  you  from  the  coarse  association 
around  you.  To  us,  Mark,  poverty  would  be  the  pri- 
vation of  every  enjoyment.  To  be  poor,  were  to  be 
maimed,  blind,  ill,  and  imprisoned,  at  once  I" 

"Dear  mother,  you  are  a  lady — /,  a  man!  And  loss 
of  fortune  has  now  no  terrors  for  me ;  and  birth  and 
education,  so  far  from  rendering  me  more  helpless, 
shall  make  me  stronger  to  conquer  my  difficulties.  I 
have  no  fear  of  wanting  any  of  the  comforts  of  life 
from  the  very  onset.  And  as  for  being  shut  out,  or 
rather  shut  in,  from  nature — mother,  do  you  think  I 
shall  be?  Do  you  think  I  shall  keep  away  from 
nature  because  I  cannot  call  on  her  in  a  coach,  with 
a  groom  on  horseback  to  take  in  my  card  ?  No,  in- 
deed. On  the  contrary,  I  purpose  to  live  with  nature. 
She's  an  old  intimate  friend  of  mine,  and  no  summer 
friend  either — nor  shall  I  be  a  summer  friend  of  hers, 
and  shrink  from  her  boisterous  winds  and  rattling 
sleet.  And  as  for  society,  mother — oh,  let  me  quote 
to  you  the  words  of  Dr.  Channing,  whose  lips,  indeed, 
seemed  touched  with  fire:  'No  matter  though  the 
prosperous  of  my  own  time  will  not  enter  my  obscure 
dwelling.  If  the  Sacred  Writers  will  enter  and  take 
up  their  abode  under  my  roof,  if  Milton  will  cross  my 
threshold  to  sing  to  me  of  paradise,  and  Shakspeare 
to  open  to  me  the  worlds  of  imagination  and  the 
workings  of  the  human  heart,  and  Franklin  to  enrich 
me  with  his  practical  wisdom,  I  shall  not  pine  for 
want  of  intellectual  companionship.'  So,  dearest 
mother,  with  industry  that  will  procure  me  all  the 


84  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVEK. 

necessaries  of  life,  health  that  will  enable  me  to  enjoy 
or  endure  nature  in  all  her  moods,  and  a  mind  de- 
pendent on  itself  for  its  enjoyment,  what  have  I  to 
dread  from  loss  of  fortune  ?" 

"It  may  be  very  well  for  you,  at  least  tolerable;  but 
for  India!  You  would  not  bring  Miss  Sutherland 
down  to  such  a  state  ?" 

Mark  paused,  and  then  answered — 

"  Yes,  mother,  yes ;  if  the  only  other  alternative  is 
to  be  a  separation  of  many  years,  I  would  bring  India 
down  to  this  state." 

"Oh,  Mark!  that  is  very,  very  selfish!" 

"  I  do  not  think  so,  madam." 

"Mark!  Just  now,  when  I  told  you  of  the  nameless 
miseries  of  the  well-born  poor,  you  did  not  deny 
them,  but  said.  'Mother,  you  are  a  lady — /,  a  man.' 
Mark !  out  of  your  own  mouth  I  will  condemn  you. 
India — Miss  Sutherland — '  is  a  lady?  Mark  !  Are  you 
not  selfish  ?" 

"No,  mother!  not  if  India  feels  as  I  do — as  I  know 
she  does ;  not  if  our  separation  would  be  to  her,  as  it 
would  be  to  me,  a  greater  evil  than  all  the  early 
struggles  our  union  may  bring  upon  us." 

"  My  dear  son,  your  sanguine  confidence  gives  me 
deep  pain.  Dear  Mark,  be  not  too  sure !  Not  for 
worlds  would  I  speak  a  word  against  your  India. 
Nor  do  1  know  that,  under  her  circumstances,  I  speak 
much  evil  of  her  when  I  say  that  she  is  haughty,  self- 
willed,  indolent,  and  fastidious!  But  are  those  the 
elements  of  self-sacrifice  ?" 

"  Mother,  I  would  not  hear  another  soul  breathe 
aught  against  India  but  you  ;  but  to  answer  your 
question — and  granting,  v/hnt  I  am  unwilling  to 


MRS.   SUTHERLAND.  85 

grant,  that  these  faults  of  her  station  may  be  also  hers 
— affection  will  conquer  them!  My  life  upon  India's 
magnanimity !" 

Yet,  even  while  he  spoke,  he  became  suddenly  pale 
and  aghast,  as  if,  for  the  first  time,  the  possibility  that 
it  might  be  otherwise  had  struck  him. 

The  lady  had  been  pale  and  disturbed  throughout 
the  interview ;  and  now  she  rose,  and  taking  his  hand, 
said — 

"Mark,  they  have  gone  down  to  breakfast;  we 
must  go  too.  We  will  speak  of  this  again.  Mark,  I 
should  be  in  despair,  if  I  did  not  hope  that  circum- 
stances will  compel  you  to  abandon  this  insane 
purpose.  When  do  you  break  it  to  India  ?" 

"  This  day,  mother !  You  have  conjured  up  a 
phantom  whose  'presence  I  would  not  endure  for  many 
hours.  It  must  be  exorcised  by  dear  India  forth- 
with." 

Mrs.  Sutherland  had  two  grounds  of  hope.  The 
first  was,  that  her  son,  restored  to  home  associations 
and  influences,  might  change  his  views  and  purposes 
before  they  should  become  known  to  his  uncle.  Upon 
this  first  hope  she  founded  her  purpose  of  preventing, 
as  long  as  possible,  Mark's  intended  communication 
to  India.  The  second  ground  of  hope  was,  that  in  the 
event  of  Mr.  Sutherland's  intentions  becoming  known, 
the  powerful  motives  that  would  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  him — the  threatened  loss  of  his  uncle's  favour, 
and  of  his  promised  bride's  hand — might  irresistibly 
impel  him  to  renounce  his  project. 

But  her  present  wish  was  to  arrest  the  disclosure 
of  her  son's  resolution  until  she  could  gain  time  to 
use  her  influence  upon  him  to  induce  him  to  abandon 


86  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

them.  These  thoughts  did  not  arise  in  her  mind  during 
her  interview  with  Mark,  nor  until  she  sat  reflecting 
upon  it,  after  breakfast,  in  the  back  parlour.  Her 
visitors,  on  leaving  the  table,  had  retired  into  the  front 
room. 

Her  fit  of  deep  thought  was  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  Mrs.  Vivian  from  that  front  parlour.  The 
"  lady  gay"  came  in,  trilling  a  lively  opera  air.  Mrs. 
Sutherland  arose,  and  took  her  hand  with  a  very 
serious  manner,  saying — 

"  My  dear  Valeria,  who  have  you  left  in  the  other 
room  ?" 

"Mark  and  India,"  answered  the  little  widow, 
raising  her.  eyebrows  with  slight  surprise. 

"  No  one  else  ?" 

"No — yes — I  do  not  know;  I  believe  there  is  a 
waiter,  or" — 

"  My  dearest  Valeria,"  said  Mrs.  Sutherland,  draw- 
ing her  to  the  opposite  extremity  of  the  room,  "  do 
me  a  favour ;  return  to  the  room,  and,  not  only  while 
you  remain  here,  but  after  you  go  back  to  Cashmere, 
prevent  as  long  as  possible  any  private  conversation 
between  those  two  young  people;  interrupt  them; 
follow  them;  stay  with  them:  circumvent  them  in 
every  way." 

"  Helen,  you  astonish  me  !  Me  play  Madame  De- 
trop,  not  '  for  one  night  only,'  but  for  a  whole  season  I 
You  positively  shock  me  I"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Vivian, 
and  her  eyes  asked,  what  can  you  mean  ? 

Mrs.  Sutherland  answered  both  words  and  looks 
at  the  same  time,  by  saying,  very  gravely, — 

"  Valeria,  I  ask  a  very  strange  favour,  and  impose 
upon  your  friendship  the  unpleasant  alternative  of  re- 


MRS.   SUTHERLAND.  5* 

fusing  me  point  blank,  or  taking  upon  yourself  a  most 
ungracious  duty ;  but,  dear  Valeria,  in  this  at  least 
the  end  will  justify  the  means.  I  do  not  wish  to 
separate  my  son  and  niece,  as  your  eyes  seem  to  say» 
but  au  contraire,  to  prevent  their  separation." 

"  I  do  not  comprehend." 

"  I  wish  to  prevent  a  quarrel.  Young  people  will 
not  quarrel  before  others,  any  more  than  they  will 
make  love  before  them.  There  is  a  point  of  contro- 
versy between  Mark  and  India,  and  I  do  not  wish 
them  to  have  an  opportunity  of  discussing  it  until 
both  their  heads  are  cool." 

"  Ah,  I  think  I  know  'the  point  of  contention," 
said  Valeria,  with  a  bright  look  of  sudden  intelli- 
gence. 

"  You  ?" 

"  Yes." 

And  the  thoughtless  little  lady,  totally  forgetful 
that  the  communication  had  been  confidential,  im- 
parted to  her  the  contents  of  Mark's  letter  to  India, 
and  the  indignation  she  had  expressed  at  its  con- 
tents, and  the  fear  she  had  betrayed  lest  her  father 
and  uncle  should  discover  her  lover's  change  of  sen- 
timents. 

Mrs.  Sutherland  heard  the  story  with  a  thoughtful 
brow,  and  at  its  close,  said — 

"  And  do  you  not  think,  Valeria,  that  the  discussion 
of  this  subject  between  them  at  present  would  end 
fatally  for  our  hopes  ?'' 

"I  do  not  know,  indeed.  I  cannot  estimate  the 
strength  of  Mr.  Sutherland's  convictions  and  pur- 
poses." 


88  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OK   PEARL    RIVKK. 

"But  you  think  that  India  will  never  yield  to 
them?" 

"Never!" 

"  And  so  think  I.  Yet  Mark,  dear,  deluded  child, 
would  stake  his  soul  on  what  he  calls  her  heroism. 
Well,  Valeria,  now  will  you  promise  me  to  prevent 
an  interview  as  long  as  you  can,  to  give  me  an  oppor- 
tunity of  trying  to  bring  that  poor  boy  to  reason  ?" 

"Ha!  ha!  hal  It  is  a  thankless  task,  but  I  will 
undertake  it.  But  you  must  give  me  an  assistant,  to 
relieve  me  sometimes,  and  to  better  insure  the  success 
of  your  enterprise.  Confide  in  Uncle  Billy,  and  let 
him  be  on  duty  while  I  am  off." 

"  I  intend  to  have  a  talk  with  my  brother  upon  the 
subject,  but  in  the  mean  time  I  rely  mainly  upon  you. 
Promise  me  again  that  you  will  be  vigilant." 

"As  vigilant  as  I  can,  Helen;  but  you  know  my 
first  duty  is  to  Eosalie,  dear  child  I  I  reproach  my- 
self for  having  left  her  last  night,  but  the  housekeeper 
promised  that  she  would  sleep  in  the  adjoining  room, 
and  watch  over  her." 

"Do  you  not  think  that  you  watch  over  her  too 
much  ?  Do  you  not  see  that  she  is  made  too  much 
of  a  hothouse-plant  ?" 

"Eosalie?  What!  when  even  a  slight  change  in 
the  weather,  or  a  draught  of  air,  or  a  piece  of  fruit  not 
ripe,  or  a  little  too  ripe,  or  some  such  trifle,  is  sufficient 
to  make  her  ill  for  a  week,  and  to  bring  her  to  the 
brink  of  the  grave  ?  I  would  give  half  ray  fortune  to 
any  physician  who  would" — 

The  little  lady's  voice  broke  down,  and  her  spark- 
ling eyes  melted  into  tears;  then  she  said,  in  a  falter- 
ing tone — 


"Do  you  think  she  will  die?  or  do  you  think 
there  is  a  blessed  possibility  of  her  health  being  re 
stored  ?" 

"That  which  she  never  possessed,  and  therefore 
never  lost,  cannot,  of  course,  be  restored.  But  I  think 
a  different  manner  of  treatment  would  strengthen  the 
child ;  for  how  can  you  expect  her  to  be  strong, 
confined  to  hot  rooms,  and  idleness,  and  super-dainty 
diet?" 

"  I  am  sure  I  do  the  very  best  I  can  for  the  dear 
girl;  I  take  her  out  twice  a  day  in  the  carriage;  I 
never  suffer  her  to  go  alone;  she  never  has  a  bath 
until  I  dip  the  thermometer  into  it  with  my  own 
hands,  to  regulate  the  temperature;  she  never  puts 
on  an  article  of  clothing  until  I  have  ascertained  it  to 
be  well  aired ;  and  she  never  even  eats  an  orange  until 
it  has  first  passed  through  my  fingers ;  and  yet,  with 
all  my  care,  she  droops  and  droops" 

"Like  an  over- nursed  exotic.  But,  dear  Valeria, 
there !  There  goes  Thomas,  with  a  vase  of  yesterday's 
flowers,  to  change  them.  Hasten  in  there,  dear  Valeria, 
and  prevent  an  eclaircissement,  while  I  speak  to  my 
brother." 

"  Why,  is  he  here  ?" 

"Certainly;  he  came  while  we  were  at  breakfast, 
and  went  up  stairs  to  change  his  dress.  That  is  the 
reason  I  remained  in  this  room,  to  give  him  his 
breakfast." 

The  flighty  little  lady,  already  oblivious  of  her 
causes  for  distress,  went  singing  into  the  room,  just 
in  time  to  overhear,  with  her  quick  ears,  Mr.  Suther- 
land say  to  his  betrothed — 

"  Dear  India — (Oh,  heavens !  here  comes  that  widow 


VIO  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVEK. 

again !) — but  1  must  have  an  uninterrupted  talk  with 

you;  when  and  where  shall  it  be?" 

"  In  the  library,  at  twelve.    Hush  !  She's  here" 

"  So,"  thought  Mrs.  Vivian,  "  I  have  just  got  in  time 

enough  to  hear  for  myself  that  my  efforts  to  be  useful 

and  impertinent  will  be  totally  fruitless." 


In  the  meanwhile  Uncle  Billy  had  changed  his 
dress,  and  had  come  down  in  a  jacket  and  trousers  of 
linen,  white  as  "  driven  snow,"  and  took  his  seat  at 
the  breakfast  table.  While  she  waited  upon  him,  Mrs. 
Sutherland  cautiously  communicated  the  news  that  so 
burdened  her  mind.  Gradually,  as  she-  proceeded,  the 
truth  burst  with  the  suddenness  of  a  thunderbolt  upon 
Uncle  Billy,  who  dropped  his  roll  and  cup  of  coffee, 
turned  pale,  fell  back  in  his  chair,  and  gasped — 
"  Good  gracious  1" 

"  Don't  make  a  noise,  brother,  if  you  please.  See, 
James  is  coming  with  your  eggs ;  wait  until  he  has 
withdrawn,"  said  the  self-possessed  Mrs.  Sutherland; 
and  then  she  directed  the  servant  who  came  in  to  set 
down  his  salver,  and  leave  the  room.  When  he  had 
gone,  she  turned  again  to  her  brother,  and  said — 

"Yes,  this  is  true,  and  nothing  remains  now  but  to 
try  to  overrule  his  purpose,  or  at  least  to  gain  time." 

"I — I  am  overwhelmed,  prostrated,  stunned  with 
astonishment;  though,  to  be  sure,  at  my  time  of  life, 
I  am  never  the  least  surprised  by  any  thing  that  hap- 
pens. They  are  fools  who  at  fifty  wonder  at  any 
thing." 

Mrs.  Sutherland  then  expressed  a  wish  that  her 


MRS.   SUTHERLAND.  91 

brother  would  aid  her  designs,  both  by  delaying  the 
opportunity  of  an  explanation  between  the  young 
people,  and  also  by  using  all  his  logical  powers  upon 
her  son,  to  convert  him  from  his  purpose ;  for,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  Mrs.  Sutherland  had  unbounded  faith 
m  Mr.  Boiling's  polemic  abilities.  His  soi-disant  im- 
partiality, coolness,  and  precision  of  judgment,  had 
really  imposed  upon  her. 

Uncle  Billy  dug  both  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and 
dropped  his  rosy  chin  upon  his  chest  with  an  attitude 
and  expression  of  deep  cogitation,  and  his  face  quite 
flushed  with  the  heat  and  burden  of  his  thoughts. 
At  last  he  said,  with  an  air  of  great  deliberation — 

"  Hem !  In  the  first  place,  we  must  essay  every 
possible  means  of  persuasion  and  coercion,  to  move 
him  from  his  purpose.  Yes,  persuasion  and  coercion 
of  every  possible  kind  and  degree ;  for  in  this  case 
the  end  justifies  the  means." 

"Yes,  my  dear  brother,  I  agree  with  you  perfectly; 
it  is  just  what  I  said." 

"Yes,  but  at  the  same  time,"  said  Billy  Bothsides, 
shaking  his  head,  and  glancing  keenly  at  his  sister, 
with  the  astute  air  of  one  making  a  very  fine  distinc 
tion — "  at  the  same  time,  we  are  not  to  use  any  undue 
or  unfair  influence  over  the  young  man." 

"  Oh,  certainly  not,"  said  Mrs.  Sutherland. 

"  No,  no,  I  never  could  consent  to  that,  although  1 
would  go  to  any  justifiable  or  even  unjustifiable 
lengths,  to  cure  the  boy  of  his  folly.  You  understand 
me ?  You  follow  out  my  line  of  reasoning?" 

"Well,  no,  brother  William,  I  do  not,  clearly." 

"Women  seldom  do!  women  seldom  do!  Bui 
never  mind!  Trust  to  me!  Pll  bring  him  round 


92  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

/ — though  I  confess  I  do  not  believe  it  will  be  in  the 
power  of  mortal  man  to  do  it,"  said  Mr.  Boiling, 
rising  from  the  table,  and  sauntering  into  the  front 
parlour. 

He  found  Mrs.  Vivian  monopolising  the  attention 
of  Mr.  Sutherland,  by  making  him  translate  for  her  a 
sonnet  of  Petrarch.  As  soon  as  Uncle  Billy  appeared, 
to  relieve  guard,  Mrs.  Vivian  suddenly  lost  all  interest 
in  Italian,  dropped  her  book,  and  left  the  room,  pass- 
ing Mrs.  Sutherland  on  her  way,  to  whom  she  said, 
laughingly— 

"A  pretty  commencement  I  have  made  of  it  I  First, 
heard  myself  anathematised  for  a  '  pestilent  widow' — 
next  made  myself  and  three  other  people  wretched 
for  an  hour — those  were,  Sutherland,  who  was  dying 
to  speak  to  India — Lauderdale,  who  was  longing  to 
talk  to  me — India,  who  wishes  to  listen  to  Sutherland 
— and  last,  not  least,  myself,  who  was  quite  willing  to 
hear  what  Lauderdale  had  to  say." 

"Mr.  Lauderdale  seemed  quite — pleased  with  you 
last  night." 

"  Pleased  ?  Well,  I  should  not  be  surprised.  Per- 
haps he  means  to  make  love  to  me  this  morning.  If 
he  does  not,  perhaps — he's  only  a  college  boy — I  mean 
to  make  love  to  him,  pour  se  disennuyee  ;"  and  waving 
her  fan  playfully,  and  half  curtseying,  the  trifler 
glided  off. 

And  soon  after  she  was  seen  promenading  on  the 
piazza  with  young  Lauderdale. 

Ennuyee  with  the  dolce  far  niente  of  the  morning, 
Miss  Sutherland  ordered  her  carriage  to  return  home. 
Uncle  Billy  begged  a  seat  inside,  and  Mr.  Sutherland 


1UK.3.    SUTHERLAND.  93 

and  (at  the  invitation  of  the  latter)  Mr.  Lauderdale 
mounted  horses  to  attend  the  party. 

Their  way  lay  through  a  beautiful  piece  of  woods, 
that  covered  the  hill,  just  rising,  and  then  gradually 
declining  to  the  river.  They  crossed  by  a  ferry. 

This  part  of  the  river,  being  the  head  of  the  bend, 
resembled  a  beautiful  woodland  lake,  lying  embosomed 
among  its  green  hills  and  groves,  which  were  all  dis- 
tinctly reflected  in  the  water,  that  was  flushed  with  a 
pale  purple  light,  changing  ever  into  azure  or  crim- 
son, or  fading  oft*  into  faint  beautiful  hues  of  pink  or 
saffron. 

"  Oh !  it  is  well-named  the  Pearl — this  lovely  river 
— though  it  might  as  well  be  called  the  Opal,"  said 
Billy  Boiling,  who  had  a  taste  for  natural  beauty. 

They  were  but  few  minutes  in  reaching  the  other 
bank  of  the  river,  and  landing  at  Cashmere. 

Arrived  at  Cashmere,  the  party  passed  up  the  wind- 
ing road  leading  through  the  groves  and  shrubberies 
of  the  lawn,  to  the  foot  of  the  marble  steps  leading  to 
the  rose  terrace,  and  there  alighting,  passed  through 
the  verandah  into  the  house. 

Laughingly  Mrs.  Vivian  took  immediate  posses- 
sion of  Miss  Sutherland,  and  carried  her  off  to  seek 
Rosalie. 

Mr.  Sutherland,  senior,  happened  to  be  in  the  house, 
and  Mark  immediately  introduced  his  friend  Lauder- 
dale. The  old  gentleman  welcomed  the  stranger  with 
the  stately  suavity  habitual  to  men  of  his  day  and 
station ;  but  he  received  his  nephew  with  an  earnest- 
ness of  affection  scarcely  restrained  by  the  presence 
of  a  third  party — pressing  his  hand  with  much  warmth, 
and  detaining  it  lingeriiigly  in  his  clasp. 


9-i  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

Mark  Sutherland  could  hardly  repress  a  groan,  to 
think  how  soon  all  this  must  be  changed.  Nay,  more : 
he  even  felt  a  species  of  compunction  for  receiving 
his  uncle's  kindness  under  what  he  felt  to  be  false 
colours ;  and  he  determined,  if  possible,  not  to  let  an 
hour  pass  before  having  a  full  explanation  with  him. 
And  so,  after  the  first  compliments  were  over,  and 
when  the  planter  arose  and  politely  excused  himself, 
saying  that  important  business  called  him  over  to  hia 
new  plantation,  and  expressing  a  hope  that  Mr. 
Lauderdale  would  consider  his  house,  servants,  and 
stables,  entirely  at  his  commands,  Mark  Sutherland 
laid  his  hand  solemnly  upon  his  arm,  and  said — 

"  My  dear  uncle,  I  must  nave  a  conversation^with 
you  this  morning." 

"  My  dear  Mark,"  said  the  old  man,  smiling — if  it 
could  be  called  a  smile — "  I  know  what  you  are  about 
to  ask,  and  I  answer  beforehand,  just  as  soon  as  India 
pleases.  The  sooner  the  better.  I  speak  freely  before 
your  friend" — bowing  to  the  latter — "whom,  I  pre- 
sume, you  have  persuaded  to  do  you  the  honour  of 
attending  you  upon  the  occasion.  Consult  my  daugh- 
ter !  You  know  her  will  is  law  in  this  affair." 

"My  dear  sir,  it  is  upon  another  subject  that  I 
really  must  consult  you,  at  your  very  earliest  conve- 
nience," said  Mr.  Sutherland,  with  such  earnestness 
of  manner  as  to  enforce  serious  attention. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  planter,  "  to-day  you  must 
really  excuse  me.  I  have  to  go  over  to  the  new  planta- 
tion. Stoke,  my  manager  there,  thinks  that  the  cotton 
crop  is  not  in  a  vigorous  state ;  he  fears  that  it  is 
taking  the  rot.  But,  excuse  me — young  men  know 
little  and  care  less  for  the  anxieties  that  make  their 


MRS.    SUTHERLAND.  95 

elders  slaves."  And,  smiling  and  bowing,  the  old 
gentleman  withdrew. 

And  Mark  Sutherland,  seeing  no  opportunity  of 
breaking  his  mind  to  either  father  or  daughter  for 
the  present,  invited  Lauderdale  for  a  ride  over  the 
plantation. 

Mr.  Sutherland  rang,  and  ordered  horses,  which 
were  at  the  door  in  fifteen  minutes,  and  he  and  his 
friend  mounted  and  commenced  their  ride. 

First  winding  round  the  shaded  path  at  the  foot  of 
the  rose  terrace,  they  turned  to  the  left,  and  entered 
the  grove  which  surrounded  three  sides  of  the  back 
of  the  house.  Half  a  mile's  ride  through  a  narrow, 
tangled  pathway,  up  which  they  were  obliged  to  pro- 
ceed in  Indian  file,  led  them  to  an  elevated  clearing 
of  about  a  hundred  acres,  on  which  was  situated  the 
negro  village,  called,  in  plantation  parlance,  "The 
Quarters." 

"There!  what  do  you  think  of  that?"  asked  Mark 
Sutherland,  with  a  slight  dash  of  triumph  in  his  tone, 
as  they  drew  rein  and  paused  under  the  shade  of  the 
trees  at  the  edge  of  the  grove. 

Lauderdale's  eyes  were  roving  leisurely  and  atten- 
tively over  the  woodland  village.  It  was  certainly  a 
most  lovely  scene.  The  sky  above  was  of  the  brilliant, 
intense  blue  of  southern  climes ;  the  foliage  of  the 
woods  around  was  of  the  vivid  green  of  early  summer. 
A  few  large  trees  were  left  standing  at  intervals  in  the 
clearing;  and  under  these,  and  scattered  at  irregular 
distances  through  the  area,  were  the  neat  white  cottages 
with  their  red -pain  ted  doors.  Each  cottage  had  its 
small  vegetable  garden,  and  some  few  of  the  better- 
kept  houses  had  their  fruit  trees,  and  even  flower 


9  )  INDIA.      THE    1'EAUL    OF    1'EAKL    KiVEH. 

yards.  The  village  was  deserted  now,  except  by  the 
children  playing  at  the  doors,  and  the  old  people  left 
to  take  care  of  them.  Of  these  latter,  some  were  seated 
upon  the  door-steps,  and  some  were  standing  leaning 
over  the  fence-rails ;  some  were  occupied  with  knitting 
coarse  stockings;  and  some,  mostly  men,  were  smok- 
ing their  pipes.  All  the  able-bodied  men  and  women 
were  out  in  the  fields. 

Lauderdale  looked  on,  first  with  an  expression  of 
surprise  and  pleasure,  but  afterwards  with  a  counte- 
nance full  of  thought. 

"  Well,  my  friend,  how  do  you  like  that  ?"  repeated 
Mr.  Sutherland. 

"  I  will  give  you  my  opinion  more  at  large,  later  in 
the  day,  my  dear  Mark,"  replied  Lauderdale;  and 
then  he  added,  "  I  have  been  told  that  you  have  the 
best  stud  and  best  stables  in  Mississippi;  will  you 
favour  me  with  the  sight  of  those  also  ?" 

Mr.  Sutherland  immediately  assented.  They  turned 
their  horses'  heads,  and  taking  another  path,  rode  in 
a  circuit  around  to  the  site  of  the  stables,  which  lay 
at  some  distance  to  the  right  of  the  mansion  house, 
and  were  concealed  from  the  latter  by  an  intervening 
arm  of  the  grove.  The  stables  were  built  in  the  most 
approved  modern  style,  with  much  architectural 
beauty,  and  possessed  every  requisite  for  the  health 
and  comfort  of  the  noble  animals  for  whose  accommo- 
dation they  were  designed.  Here  again  Lauderdale 
expressed  no  opinion,  but  asked  to  see — don't_start, 
super-refined  reader — the  pig  pens.  Mark,  with  a  queer 
smile,  conducted  his  guest  to  the  desired  premises ; 
and  also,  without  waiting  to  be  solicited,  introduced 
him  to  the  cow  pens,  the  hen  house,  etc.  All  these 


MRS.   SUTHERLAND.  97 

buildings  had  been  constructed  under  the  direction 
of  a  celebrated  English  rural  architect,  and  of  course 
were  fitted  with  every  modern  improvement  for  the 
well-being  of  the  stock.  Still  Lauderdale  as  yet  re- 
served his  judgment,  while  he  expressed  his  thanks  to 
his  host  for  the  privilege  he  had  enjoyed.  Sutherland 
mischievously  asked  him  whether  he  would  not  also 
like  to  see  the  pigeon  boxes  before  dinner.  Lauder- 
dale smilingly  declined,  and  they  returned  to  the 
house.  They  alighted  from  their  saddles  and  threw 
the  reins  to  the  groom,  entered  the  hall,  and  separated 
to  dress  for  dinner. 

Half  an  hour  after,  when  they  met  in  the  drawing- 
room,  Lauderdale  advanced  to  his  host,  and  said, — 

"  Sutherland,  I  must  thank  you  again  for  the  sight 
of  your  plantation  arrangements  !  and  I  must  say  that 
all  your  stock — horses,  cows,  and  pigs,  and  slaves — 
are  probably  the  best  accommodated  of  any  in  the 
state !" 

Mark  Sutherland,  with  a  flushed  brow,  turned  away. 
But  in  an  instant,  Lauderdale  laid  his  hand  upon  his 
arm,  and  said,  with  a  voice  and  manner  full  of  affec- 
tionate earnestness — 

"  I   mean  to  say  just  this,  dear  Mark — that  your 
negro  village  is  comfortable,  and  even  exceedingly 
beautiful,  but  that  no  amount  of  physical  comfort  can 
or  ought  to  compensate  an  immortal  being  for  the  loss  / 
of  liberty  I" 

The  entrance  of  other  members  of  the  family  and 
the  speedy  announcement  of  dinner  ended  this  con- 
versation for  the  present. 

Haggard,  care-worn,  anxious,  as  he  was,  the  deep, 
ever-springing  fountain  of  gladness  in  Mark  Suther- 


93  INDIA.      T1IE    I'EAuL    OF    PEARL   RIVER. 

land's  heart  dispersed  all  his  gloom;  and,  during 
dinner,  when  the  jest  and  laugh  went  round,  lie  was 
as  usual  the  spring  of  wit  and  humour  to  the  party. 

After  dinner,  when  he  was  about  to  seek  an  inter- 
view with  his  betrothed,  Mrs.  Vivian  forestalled  him, 
by  carrying  off  Miss  Sutherland  to  examine  a  box  of 
goods,  lately  arrived  from  New  Orleans  for  the  bride 
elect.  And  Mr.  Boiling,  leaving  Sutherland,  senior, 
to  entertain  the  guest,  ran  his  arm  through  that  of 
Mark,  and  marched  him  off  in  triumph. 

"  Well,  Mark,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  had  got  him 
on  to  the  lawn,  "  I  cannot  understand  it !  how  a  young 
man  of  your  strength  of  character,  of  your  firmness — 
nay,  obstinacy  ;  stubbornness — should  permit  yourself 
to  fall  a  prey  to  these  adventurers." 

"I  really  do  not  see  how  I  am  their  prey,  Uncle 
Billy,  or  why  they  should  be  adventurers." 

"  Oh,  Mark,  you  are — I  mean,  dear  Mark,  you  want 
experience  of  the  world ;  and  no  amount  of  moral  or 
intellectual  excellence  will  stand  you  in  stead  for 
that.-  Nay,  indeed,  goodness  will  only  make  you  the 
easier  victim,  and  talent  the  more  useful  tool  to  these 
speculators." 

"  Uncle,  you  wrong  them !  By  the  honour  of  my 
soul,  you  do !  You  have  never  seen  or  heard  but  one 
side  of  the  question,  and  therefore  you  are  bitterly 
prejudiced." 

"Prejudiced!  Me  prejudiced!  when  everybody 
knows  that  I  am  the  most  impartial  person  in  the 
world !  But  '  moderation  has  its  martyrs  also.' " 

"You  certainly  are  prejudiced  in  this  matter;  yet 
how  shall  I  set  you  right  ?  And  why  should  I  be 


MRS.   SUTHERLAND.  99 

surprised?  Once,  there  was  never  such  a  scoffer  as  I 
was." 

"  Yes,  and  thafs  just  what  raises  the  hair  of  my 
head  with  wonder  1  Your  good-humoured  satire  and 
gay  indulgence  used  to  please  me  so  much  more  than 
your  uncle's  haughty,  scornful,  persecuting  resentment 
of  these  people's  affronts.  You  used  to  laugh,  and  say 
to  your  uncles,  'Your  anger  is  inadequate  to  the 
offence ;  it  is  ungenerous.  These  objects  of  your  dis- 
pleasure are  very  harmless  enthusiasts.'  And  now! 
Ah,  Mark,  I  call  to  mind  the  poet's  line — 

'  First  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace.' 

You  began  by  enduring,  and  you  end  by  embracing 
their  doctrines.  Ah,  Mark !  Mark  I  Mark !  how  came 
it  so?" 

"  Uncle,  did  you  never  hear  of  a  gay  man  or  woman 
of  the  world — well  enough  in  their  way — not  sinners 
above  all  sinners,  but  with  a  certain  light,  satirical 
way  of  treating  serious  subjects,  and  a  certain  good- 
humoured  contempt  for  those  that  entertained  them — 
did  you  never  hear  an  instance  of  such  a  man  or 
woman  going  into  a  religious  meeting  to  scoff,  but 
returning  home  to  pray?  Well,  very  much  akin  to 
that  was  my  experience.  I  went  to  the  convention  in 
New  York,  just  to  fulfil  a  promise  made  to  my  friend 
Lauderdale,  and  next  to  have  a  laugh  at  them  1  At 
the  first  meeting — well ;  I  am  not  going  to  give  you 
a  report  of  it — sufficient  is  it  to  tell  you  that  the  sub- 
ject was  presented  to  my  mind  in  a  new  and  startling 
aspect.  I  laughed,  or  rather  tried  to  laugh,  it  off." 

"  I  wish  to  goodness  you  had  taken  it  more  earn- 


100  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   FEAKL   KIVEK. 

estly   than    to    begin   with   laughing,    to    end    with 
imitating." 

"At  the  second  meeting,  there  were  some  still 
higher,  purer  souls,  and  more  eloquent  and  com- 
manding tongues;  lips  touched  with  fire,  whose 
words  were  flame  consuming  the  wrong  principle, 
that  shrivelled  up  before  it.  But  I  do  not  mean  to 
become  eloquent  myself.  This  is  not  the  time  or 
place,  nor  are  you  the  audience.  It  is  enough  to  say 
that  the  speakers  in  that  meeting  gave  me  the  heart- 
ache and  the  headache,  and  I  wished  in  my  soul  I  had 
never  entered  their  hall.  Yet  nevertheless  a  fascina- 
tion drew  me  there  the  third  evening.  And  then, 
whether  '  the  master  minds'  of  the  cause  had  said  all 
they  had  to  say  for  the  time,  or  whether  they  had  not 
yet  arrived  upon  the  scene  of  action,  I  really  cannot 
say — (for  the  room  was  crowded,  and  not  by  friends 
of  the  cause,  as  you  will  hear,  but  by  conspirators, 
who  had  come  there  to  break  the  meeting  up) — but 
certainly,  after  one  short  address  of  thrilling  eloquence 
and  power — during  the  progress  of  which  I  felt  my- 
self to  be  a  participant  in  an  injustice,  and  at  the  close 
of  which  I  was  ready  to  make  an  irrevocable  oath  to 
clear  my  life  from  the  sin — up  jumps  a  fellow,  with 
more  zeal  than  knowledge,  and  more  deviltry,  I  per- 
fectly believe,  than  either,  and  so  defames  me  and  my 
fellow-citizens  of  the  South,  and  so  caricatures  us  as 
monsters  of  atrocity,  and  so  whirrs  and  rattles  whips 
and  chains  and  gyves  about  my  ears  and  eyes,  that  it 
was  the  cast  of  a  die  whether  I  should  laugh  or  swear. 
But  before  it  was  decided,  a  resolution  was  put  and 
an  amendment  offered,  and  two  or  three  people  rose, 
and  half  a  dozen  began  to  speak,  and  everybody 


SUTHERLAND.  101 

wanted  to  talk,  and  nobody — but  me — wanted  to  hear, 
and  there  was  a  confusion  inside  and  a  gathering  mob 
outside,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  time  there  was  a 
hailstorm  of  stones,  and  battered  walls,  and  smashed 
windows,  and  the  meeting  was  broken  up  in  a  row ; 
and  my  Celtic  blood  boiled  up  and  boiled  over ;  and 
while  laying  about  me  valiantly  in  defence  of  freedom 
of  speech,  /  lost  myself.  And  when  I  found  myself,  I 
was  lying  v/ith  a  broken  arm  and  broken  head  in  the 
watchhouse!" 

"  Good  gracious,  Mark !  what  a  dishonour  I  What 
would  my  sister,  what  would  my  niece,  say  to  that?" 

"  They  do  not  know  it,  and  they  need  not." 

"  Well,  really,  one  would  have  thought  that  would 
have  cured  you !" 

"  My  good  uncle,  it  did — of  indecision.  One  is  very 
apt  to  be  confirmed  to  a  cause  in  which  they  have 
suffered  somewhat.  I  lay  very  ill  for  two  weeks. 
During  that  time  I  was  ministered  to  by  some  ex- 
cellent men,  and  women  also — persons  whose  disinter- 
estedness, benevolence,  gentleness,  and  perfect  sin- 
cerity, gave  me  such  a  deep  and  beautiful  impression 
of  the  Christian  character  as  I  had  never  received  from 
book  or  pulpit — persons  who  had  sacrificed  fortune, 
position,  friendships — aZZ,  to  a  pure  but  despised 
cause.  It  was  the  silent  influence,  even  more  than  the 
spoken  words  of  these,  which  fixed  me  forever  in  my 
good  purpose." 

"  It  may  be  true,  Mark,  that  there  are  such,  or  it 
may  only  have  seemed  so  to  you.  What  I  know  is, 
that  if  there  are  such  disinterested  souls  in  the  cause, 
they  are,  at  best,  only  the  instruments  with  which  the 


10^  1NMA.      THK    PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

party  leaders  work  for  their  own  individual  ends  and 
selfish  purposes." 

"  No,  it  is  not  so,  nor  could  it  be  so ;  wisdom  and 
goodness  could  not  become  the  tools  of  selfishness  and 
worldliness." 

"  Now,  Mark,  don't  stand  there  and  try  to  dazzle 
your  old  uncle's  intellect,  by  a  fine-sounding  Joseph 
Surface  sentiment !  You  must  either  be  a  blockhead, 
or  take  me  for  one,  when  you  pretend  to  tell  me  that 
the  teachers  of  that  party  are  not  a  set  of  self-seeking 
agitators,  whose  motives  range  from  the  mere  getting 
of  daily  bread,  up  to  the  getting  of  political  power ; 
and  who,  if  it  fell  easily  in  their  way,  would  as  will- 
ingly reach  their  ends  by  entering  into  the  slave 
trade,  as  by  agitating  the  question  of  emancipation." 

The  hot  blood  crimsoned  Mark  Sutherland's  brow, 
and  he  answered  indignantly — 

"  You  speak  of  that  of  which  you  know  nothing. 
You  speak  of  those  whose" 

"Ahl  don't  I  know  nothing?"  interrupted  Mr. 
Boiling.  "Where  is  that  Mr.  Grab,  who  came  down 
here  as  a  travelling  preacher,  and  took  that  opportu- 
nity (or  perhaps  he  was  sent  on  purpose,  and  paid  to 
do  it)  to  preach  abolition  to  the  poor  whites  and  the 
blacks,  and  to  do  Satan  knows  what  other  mischief; 
and  the  Lord  knows  what  judgment  would  have  fallen 
on  him  from  our  incensed  planters,  if  he  had  not  been 
offered  an  asylum  in  the  house  of  your  cousin,  Mrs. 
Tilden,  who,  being  a  sentimental,  compassionate  young 
woman,  and  finding  herself  the  protectress  of  a  pale, 
persecuted  young  preacher,  began  to  court  him,  as 
widows  tuill  court ;  and  so,  when  all  her  brothers  and 
brothers-in-law  came  in  force  to  turn  him  out  and 


MRS.  <L'TH::KLAN*D.  103 

lynch  him,  they  met  the  pair  coming  home  from  the 
minister's — married!  The  pretty  widow,  the  plan- 
tation, and  the  negroes,  had  proved  most  convincing 
arguments,  and  had  converted  him.  And  now,  when 
he  feels  it  necessary  to  defend  himself  from  the  charge 
of  treachery  to  his  party,  he  says,  '  Oh,  the  erroneous 
sentiments  of  his  youth  were  the  effects  of  ignorance 
and  enthusiasm  !'  Umph,  humph !  we  all  understand 
that — in  his  case  second  thoughts  paid  letter" 

During  this  speech,  Mark  had  put  down  his  anger, 
and  now  replied,  gravely  and  earnestly — 

"  Uncle,  it  is  a  point  that  I  must  meet — this  of 
yours.  It  has  given  me  much,  deep  pain.  But  why 
should  it  make  you  scornful  and  incredulous  of  the 
disinterestedness  of  these  reformers,  or  why  should  it 
give  me  sorrow  ?  We  must  separate  a  high  and  pure 
cause,  and  its  devoted  self-sacrificing  supporters,  from 
its  few  unworthy  advocates.  Why,  uncle,  do  we 
reject  Christianity  because  among  the  Saviour's  chosen 
twelve  there  was  one  Judas,  who  was  covetous,  and 
whose  covetousness  made  him  sell  his  master?  Or 
because  among  His  many  disciples  there  were  some 
who  followed  Him,  hoping  for  high  places  in  the 
kingdom  they  supposed  Him  about  to  establish  on 
earth?  Or,  even  now,  do  we  all  refuse  to  hear  the 
Gospel  preached,  because  there  have  been  some 
Averys  and  Onderdonks  in  the  pulpits?  And  shall 
we  stop  our  ears,  and  close  our  eyes,  and  fold  our 
hands  before  the  cause  of  reform,  for  the  reason 
that  there  are  some  Grabs  in  the  party  ?  Nay,  God 
forbid  !r 

Mark  Sutherland  paused  as  in  painful  thought  some 


10-i  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

time,  and  then,  with  more  than  usual  emotion,  he  ex- 
claimed— 

<;  I  would  to  God  there  were  no  Achans  in  the 
camp !  For  this  work,  that  at  the  best  is  apt  to  arouse 
so  much  evil  passion — for  this  work,  requiring  so 
much  wisdom  and  goodness  to  carry  it  on  aright — 
for  this  work,  more  than  for  all  others,  should  the 
labourers  have  clear  heads,  and  clean  hands,  and  pure 
motives." 

Then,  after  a  short  pause,  addressing  his  uncle  again, 
and  taking  his  hand,  he  said — 

"  Uncle,  /  am  about  to  sacrifice  all  I  have  in  the 
world,  to  principles  I  have  but  so  lately  embraced. 
Well,  sir,  believe  me,  for  it  is  God's  holy  truth — not- 
withstanding these  Grabs  who  bring  dishonour  on  their 
cause,  there  are  hundreds  of  philanthropists  who  have 
sacrificed  as  much  as  /." 

"Indeed,  indeed,  Mark,  you  are  very  wrong  and 
foolish  to  do  this  thing!  Very,  very  foolish  and 
wrong,  indeed.  Nevertheless,  I  am  constrained  to  say 
that  you  are  perfectly  wise  and  right  in  persevering 
in  your  duty !  Yes,  sir  I"  said  Mr.  Bothsides,  wiping 
his  face  furiously,  and  stuffing  his  white  handkerchief 
back  in  his  pocket.  "  And  now,  what  do  you  mean 
to  do  further  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  shall  go  to  the  West." 

"Yes — yes — yes — yes,"  said  Uncle  Billy,  medita- 
tively ;  "  do  so.  Go  to  the  West — go  to  some  new 
place,  and  grow  up  with  it.  It  will  be  the  easiest 
thing  on  earth  for  you  to  rise  in  the  world  there,  and 
success  in  the  end  is  almost  certain — though — con- 
found it !  you  will  find  you'll  have  to  struggle  very 
hard,  and  be  very  apt  to  be  disappointed  at  last.  You 


MRS.   SUTHERLAND.  105 

have  no  reason  in  the  world  to  be  the  least  bit  dis- 
couraged— but — you  must  not  be  sanguine — that  I  can 
tell  you !  1  make  it  a  rule,  without  an  exception 
never  to  give  advice,  Mark — notwitlistanding — if  yoi 
are  ever  at  a  loss  how  to  act  in  an  emergency,  consult 
me,  Mark — my  best  counsel  is  at  your  service.  And 
I  really  think  that  with  it  you  could  not  possibly  go 
wrong,"  said  Mr.  Boiling,  drawing  his  handkerchief 
from  his  pocket  and  wiping  his  forehead,  and  re- 
placing it  with  a  look  of  great  self-complacency. 

"My  dear  Uncle  Billy,"  said  Mark,  with  a  quiet 
smile,  "  believe  me,  I  know  how  to  appreciate  your 
fine,  impartial  judgment,  and  feel  convinced  that  I 
never  should  come  to  harm  in  following  your  ad- 
vice." 

With  this  proof  of  his  high-minded  nephew's  af- 
fection and  confidence,  Mr.  Boiling's  blue  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  and  he  seized  Mark's  hand,  and  squeezed 
it,  and  shook  it,  crying — 

"  Deuce  fly  away  with  you,  Mark !  I  feel  a  perfect 
contempt  for  your  folly  and  wrong-headed  ness  in  this 
matter — nevertheless — I  am  compelled  to  admit  that  I 
am  filled  with  unmingled  admiration  for  the  wisdom 
and  rectitude  of  your  character  and  conduct !  Yes, 
sir!" 

This  was  said  with  great  emphasis,  and  once  more 
the  cambric  handkerchief  was  brought  into  violent 
requisition. 

An  hour  after  the  end  of  this  conversation,  Mark 
Sutherland  was  seated  in  the  library,  impatiently 
waiting  the  entrance  of  his  uncle,  with  whom  he  had 
at  last  succeeded  in  appointing  an  interview.  He  was 
anxious,  restless,  and  unable  to  occupy  himself  with 


106     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEAUL  RIVER. 

anything,  during  the  few  moments  which  seemed  ages 
before  the  planter  should  enter.  He  tumbled  over 
the  books,  rumpled  the  papers,  shifted  his  position 
many  times,  started  up  and  paced  the  floor,  looked 
out  of  all  the  windows  in  turn,  and  finally  went  to 
the  door  to  listen,  and  reached  it  just  as  it  was  swung 
open  in  his  face,  and  old  Clement  Sutherland  entered. 
The  planter  walked  to  the  centre  of  the  room,  and 
threw  himself  into  his  leather-covered  chair  at  his 
writing-table,  saying,  in  a  curt  voice — 

"  Well,  sir,  what  is  your  business  with  me?" 

Startled  by  the  unusual  sternness  of  his  manner, 
Mark  Sutherland  turned  and  looked  at  him  inquir- 
ingly. The  planter's  countenance  wore  an  aspect  of 
severity  that  at  once  told  his  nephew  that  from  some 
cause  or  by  some  means  he  had  been  led  to  suspect 
the  nature  of  the  communication  the  latter  was  about 
to  make  him. 

"  Will  you  oblige  me,  sir,  by  opening  your  business 
at  once,  as  my  time  is  somewhat  valuable?"  said 
Clement  Sutherland,  looking  at  his  watch. 

The  young  man  bowed,  drew  a  chair  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table,  took  a  seat,  excused  himself,  and 
deprecated  his  uncle's  displeasure  for  the  painful  sub- 
ject he  was  about  to  introduce. 

Here  Clement  Sutherland  waved  his  hand  im- 
patiently, begging  that  he  would  cut  his  introduction 
as  short  as  possible. 

Then  the  young  man  commenced  to  relate  the 
history  of  his  life  and  experiences  for  the  last  pre- 
ceding three  months ;  he  told  how  he  had  been  in- 
duced to  attend  the  colonization  meetings,  first  merely 
in  the  spirit  of  bravado  ;  how,  in  hearing  the  subject 


MRS.   SUTHERLAND.  107 

freely  and  ably  discussed,  the  conviction  had  forced 
an  entrance  into  his  soul. 

Here  Clement  Sutherland  wheeled  his  chair  around, 
so  that  his  back  was  presented  to  the  light,  and  his 
face  cast  into  deep  shadow,  and  from  this  instant  to 
the  end  of  the  conversation,  Mark  Sutherland  could 
not  watch  the  expression  of  his  countenance  to  judge 
his  mental  comments. 

But  he  went  on  to  relate  how  long  and  stoutly  he 
had  struggled  against  this  conviction ;  how  at  last  it 
had  overcome  him ;  how  his  pride,  his  selfishness,  his 
interests,  his  passions,  and  affections — all  had  yielded, 
or  must  yield  in  any  conflict  between  them  and  his 
sense  of  duty. 

"  Facts,  sir!  facts/  Let  us  have  no  sentiments,  no 
moral  or  metaphysical  disquisitions,  but  actual  facts! 
What  do  you  intend  to  do  ?" 

Mark  Sutherland  answered,  calmly — 

"  To  free  every  negro  on  my  plantation,  and  at  my 
own  expense  to  send  every  one,  who  is  willing  to  go, 
to  Liberia." 

A  scornful,  most  insulting  laugh,  was  the  only 
comment  of  the  planter. 

"  And  after  freeing  them,  I  must  do  all  in  my  power 
to  place  them  in  a  situation  of  happier  circumstances 
for  their  present,  and  more  hopeful  probabilities  for 
their  future,  lives." 

The  young  man  here  paused,  and  as  the  planter  did 
not  answer,  silence  ensued  between  them  for  several 
minutes,  during  which  the  latter  passed  his  hand 
slowly  back  and  forth  over  his  bearded  chin.  At 
length  Mark  Sutherland  said,  in  a  troubled  voice — 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  conceal  from  you,  sir,  the  fact 


108  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL    RIVEK. 

that  my  greatest  trial  in  this  affair  has  been  connected 
with  the  thought  of  India." 

Again  he  paused  for  a  reply  or  comment.  But  the 
planter  only  caressed  his  bristling  chin,  while  his 
countenance  was  inscrutable  in  the  deep  shadow. 

The  youth  spoke  again : 

"  It  has  been  a  subject  of  deep  regret  and  anxiety 
to  me,  to  feel  that  I  can  no  longer  hope  to  offer  India 
a  fortune  or  a  position  equal  to  her  just  expectations. 
For  myself,  I  have  no  doubts  or  fears  for  the  future. 
I  feel  within  me  a  power  to  struggle  and  to  conquer. 
I  feel  assured  that  within  a  very  few  years  my  position 
will  be  a  higher  one  than  it  is  now,  or  than  it  would 
be  were  I  to  retain  my  present  wealth.  I  believe  that 
my  India  will  have  no  cause  to  blush  for  her  husband, 
or  you  for  your  son-in-law." 

Still  the  old  man  did  not  make  a  single  remark, 
and  so  deep  remained  his  face  in  the  shadow,  that  the 
youth  could  not  read  his  thoughts.  It  was  rather  try- 
ing to  continue  speaking  under  these  circumstances  ; 
but  there  was  no  alternative.  He  concluded  by  say- 
ing— 

"  Although  I  have  long  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of 
your  approbation  in  my  addresses  to  your  daughter, 
I  thought  it  proper  to  take  the  very  earliest  opportu- 
nity of  informing  you  of  my  purposes,  and  the  con- 
sequent change  they  must  make  in  my  fortune  and 
circumstances.  And  now,  sir,  I  have  told  you  all, 
j».nd  I  wait  in  much  anxiety  to  hear  what  you  have  to 
say."— 

"  What  do  you  wish  me  to  say  ?"  dryly  inquired  the 
planter. 

"  Just  what  is  on  your  mind,  my  uncle." 


J1KS.    SUTHERLAND.  109 

"Humph!  this  is  rather  sudden,  sir.  It  is  true 
that  a  few  words  dropped  by  Mr.  Boiling,  and  unex- 
pectedly overheard  by  myself,  in  some  degree  prepared 
me  for  the  strange  communication  you  have  just 
made.  Still,  it  is  sudden,  sir !  It  is  sudden  !  What, 
may  I  inquire,  did  you  expect  me  to  say  ?  How  did 
you  anticipate  that  I  should  meet  this  ?" 

Mark  Sutherland  hesitated  to  reply,  but  got  up  and 
walked  the  floor  in  an  exceedingly  troubled  manner. 

A  strange  smile  sat  upon  the  face  of  the  planter. 
At  last  he  said — 

"  You  doubtless,  and  with  much  justice,  expected 
me  to  withdraw  my  consent  to  the  marriage  of  your- 
self and  my  daughter.  Did  you  not  ?  Reply,  if  you 
please." 

"Sir — my  dear  uncle!"  said  Mark,  coming  forward 
again,  "  I  had  my  doubts  and  misgivings  about  that. 
It  would  have  been  unjust  to  you  to  have  seriously 
entertained  them ;  and  it  would  be  unjust  to  myself  to 
say  that  I  did  so." 

"You  were  right,  sir!"  said  the  planter,  with  the 
same  inscrutable  smile ;  "  you  were  right — I  shall  not 
interfere.  Having  once  sanctioned  your  addresses  to 
my  daughter,  I  shall  not  now  oppose  them.  Miss 
Sutherland  is  of  age.  I  refer  you  solely  to  her. 
If,  under  the  new  aspect  of  affairs,  she  is  willing  that 
this  engagement  between  you  and  herself  shall  stand, 
and  that  the  preparations  for  marriage  proceed,  I  shall 
throw  no  obstacles  in  your  way.  Nay,  further,  sir, 
that  in  that  case,  the  marriage  shall  be  conducted 
precisely  as,  under  other  circumstances,  it  was  planned 
— that  is,  in  all  things  befitting  the  social  position  of 


110  INDIA.      THE  PEARL   OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

myself  and  my  sole  daughter.  Our  interview  is  at  an 
end,  I  believe  ?" 

The  words  of  Clement  Sutherland  would  have  called 
forth  from  his  nephew  the  warmest  emotions  and  ex- 
pressions of  gratitude,  but  that  the  tone  and  the  smile 
that  accompanied  them,  more  than  neutralised  their 
good  effect,  and  sent  a  pang  of  terrible  foreboding 
through  the  heart  of  the  young  man. 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand  gently 
and  respectfully  upon  the  arm  of  his  uncle,  as  the 
latter  was  rising  to  leave  the  library.  "  Do  I  under- 
stand you  to  say  that  you  approve" 

"  You  will  please  to  understand  me  to  say,  sir,  that 
I  refer  you  to  my  daughter,  Miss  Sutherland,  and  that 
I  shall  endorse  her  decision,  whatever  that  may  be. 
Excuse  me,  sir — good  afternoon." 

And  Clement  Sutherland,  coldly  bowing,  left  the 
library. 

Mark  Sutherland  walked  up  and  down  the  floor  in 
great  disturbance  of  mind,  and  then  at  last  he  seized 
his  hat  and  hurried  from  the  room,  to  seek  the  pre- 
sence of  India. 


CHAMBKE   DE  TOILETTE   ET   LA   TROUSSEAU.      1  11 

CHAPTER  Y. 

CHAMBRE   DE    TOILETTE    ET  LA    TROUSSEAU. 

"  'Tis  a  proud  chamber  and  a  rich, 
Filled  with  the  world's  most  costly  things, 

Of  precious  stones  and  gold ; 
Of  laces,  silks,  and  jewelry, 

And  all  that's  bought  and  sold." — Howitt. 

"  ROSALIE  !  what  is  it  you  are  pouring  over,  now  ? 
Good  heaven !  Moore's  Sacred  Melodies !  Now,  my 
love,  that  is  not  the  food  for  you  to  be  feeding  your 
sick  fancies  upon !  Plague  take  the  books  !  I  could 
find  it  in  my  heart  to  throw  every  one  I  find  into  the 
fire!  Come,  throw  aside  that  Itlnzee  sentimentalist, 
and  come  with  me  into  Miss  Sutherland's  room,  and 
try  to  interest  yourself  a  little  in  healthful  external 
life.  Miss  Sutherland's  boxes  have  just  arrived  from 
Paris,  via  New  Orleans ;  they  have  been  carried  up 
into  her  dressing-room ;  and  by  this  time,  I  suppose, 
the  men  have  opened  them,  and  carried  off  all  the 
rubbish  of  nails,  and  bands,  and  outside  boxes,  and 
we  have  only  to  go  and  help  to  set  the  beautiful  things 
at  full  liberty." 

This  was  addressed  by  Mrs.  Yivian  to  her  step- 
daughter, when,  on  entering  the  chamber  of  the  latter, 
she  found  the  young  invalid  reclining  upon  a  couch, 
and  reading,  as  usual. 

The  fair  girl  closed  her  book,  and  smiling  gently, 
arose,  and  passed  her  arm  through  that  of  her  step- 
mother. And  they  left  the  chamber,  crossed  the  hall, 


112  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEAKL    RIVER. 

opened  an  opposite  door,  and  entered  the  dressing- 
room  of  Miss  Sutherland. 

A  scene  of  splendid  chaos  met  their  view.  Most  of 
the  boxes  had  been  unpacked  and  taken  away,  and 
their  brilliant  contents  littered  chairs,  couches,  otto- 
mans, psyches,  and  even  the  carpet.  And  the  favoured 
mistress  of  all  this  wealth  sat  in  the  midst  of  the  re- 
splendent confusion,  with  an  air  of  extreme  languor 
and  indifference.  At  her  feet  sat  her  beautiful  hand- 
maiden, Oriole,  with  a  box  of  white  satin  slippers  by 
her  side,  and  her  mistress's  small  foot  in  her  lap, 
fitting  the  fairy  shoes.  By  her  side  stood  her  woman, 
Meda,  holding  a  box  of  white  kid  gloves,  from  which 
she  continued  to  hand  out  pair  after  pair  to  the  young 
lady,  who  would  draw  one  half  upon  her  fingers,  and 
then  draw  it  off  and  let  it  fall,  and  drop  her  hand  upon 
her  lap  with  a  look  of  extreme  fatigue,  as  if  the  ex- 
ertion had  really  been  too  much  for  her,  and  say,  lan- 
guidly— 

"  There,  take  them  away  ;  they  are  all  too  large,  or 
too  small,  or  something" 

"Dear  India,  how  can  you  say  that?"  said  Mrs. 
Vivian,  approaching,  and  taking  up  a  pair  of  gloves ; 
"  they  are  all  exactly  of  a  size,  and  all  number  sixes 
— your  number — and  are  really  beautiful  gloves." 

"  But  I'm  so  tired — it  is  such  a  bore.  Oriole,  cease 
tormenting  my  feet,  and  take  away  those  odious  slip- 
pers." 

<c  How  can  you  call  them  odious — the  beauties  ?" 
said  Mrs.  Vivian,  stooping  down,  and  taking  up  a 
pair. 

And  Oriole  herself  echoed  the  question  with  her 


CHAMBRE   DE   TOILETTE   ET   LA   TKOUSSEAU.      113 

eyes,  as  she  fondled  her  mistress's  beautiful  foot,  in 
its  case  of  white  satin,  soft  and  light  as  a  snow-flake. 

"  Oriole,  did  I  not  tell  you  to  let  my  foot  alone  ? 
Meda,  clear  away  all  this  chaos  from  around  me. 
Eosalie,  my  love,  reach  me  the  vinaigrette" 

"  Can  /also  do  anything  to  serve  you  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Vivian,  mischievously. 

"  Yes,  dear  Valeria ;  just  see  that  they  hang  the 
dresses  up,  and  put  away  the  cases  and  things,  while 
I  close  my  eyes  upon  this  glare,  and  rest." 

Mrs.  Vivian  arched  her  eyebrows,  and  did  as  she 
was  bid,  examining  at  her  leisure  the  magnificent 
trousseau,  as  it  was  detailed  off  under  her  eye  into 
various  wardrobes  and  bureaus.  Only  once  she  in- 
terrupted the  repose  of  Miss  Sutherland,  to  ask  her  if 
the  wedding-dress  had  come. 

"  Meda,  tell  Mrs.  Vivian  about  it,"  said  the  languid 
beauty,  scarcely  lifting  her  long  lashes. 

And  the  waiting-woman  respectfully  telegraphed 
the  lady,  and  preceded  her  into  the  adjoining  chamber, 
where  upon  the  bed  was  laid  the  magnificent  bridal 
costume  of  white  brocaded  satin,  the  superb  veil  of 
Honiton  lace,  and  the  beautiful  chaplet  of  orange 
flowers. 

Mrs.  Vivian  beckoned  Rosalie,  and  when  the  child 
stood  by  her  side,  they  examined  it  together,  and  the 
mother  tried  to  make  the  daughter  understand  how 
elegant,  how  costly,  how  recherche  was  this  costume. 

"  And  to  think,"  she  said,  "  that  India  is  so  indif- 
ferent about  a  trousseau  that  would  have  turned  my 
head  when  I  was  a  girl.  I  don't  believe  it  is  indif- 
ference either ;  I  believe  it  is  affectation." 

"No,  it  is  not,  mamma.  She  is  really  indifferent  to 
7 


114:  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

all  this.  There  is  something  troubles  her.  She  was 
not  resting  when  she  sat  so  still.  I  saw  her  lips 
tremble  and  her  eyelids  quiver." 

Mrs.  Vivian  cast  a  scrutinizing  glance  at  the  girl, 
thinking,  "  How  is  it  that  in  some  things  she  is  ob- 
servant?" But  Rosalie,  almost  unconsciously,  was 
repeating  to  herself  the  refrain  of  the  song  she  had 
been  reading : — 

"All  that's  bright  must  fade." 

"Rosalie,  have  done  with  that  sentimental  melan- 
choly ;  it  disturbs  rne ;  and  it  is  untrue,  besides.  The 
best  things  are  most  enduring.  And  it  is  all  nonsense, 
besides,  to  suppose  that  anything  more  serious  than 
indolence  troubles  India.  And  now,  my  dear,  do  you 
know  the  programme  of  these  bridal  festivities  and 
tour,  as  we  arranged  it  yesterday?" 

"No,"  said  the  young  girl,  trying  to  be  interested. 

Mrs.  Vivian  dropped  herself  into  an  easy  chair  at 
the  side  of  the  bed,  and  Rose  sank  upon  the  cushion 
at  her  feet,  and  laid  her  head  in  the  lady's  lap ;  and 
and  while  Valeria  ran  her  fingers  caressingly  through 
the  soft  ringlets  of  the  child,  she  said — 

"  The  marriage  was  long  ago  fixed  to  come  off  on 
Miss  Sutherland's  birthday,  and  she  and  her  friends 
see  no  reason  to  change  it  now.  That,  you  know,  my 
dear,  is  on  the  15th  of  this  month — a  week  from  to- 
day. The  ceremony  is  to  take  place  in  the  morning, 
my  love,  and  you  are  to  be  one  of  the  bridesmaids. 
Immediately  after  the  benediction,  the  bridal  pair  are 
to  set  out  upon  a  tour  of  the  springs  and  other  places 
of  fashionable  summer  resort,  of  six  weeks.  You  and 
I,  Rose,  are  going  up  into  the  pine  woods,  to  a  quiet 


CHAMBRE   DE   TOILETTE   ET  LA  TROUSSEAU.      115 

farm-house,  to  spend  the  hot  months ;  for  indeed,  dear 
child,  I  do  not  think  you  strong  enough  to  bear  the 
fatigue  of  a  northern  journey,  or  the  crowd  and  bustle 
of  a  watering-place." 

"  Dear  mamma,  how  much  you  give  up  for  rne !" 

"  My  child,  I  would  do  anything  in  the  world  to 
see  you  restored  to  health  and  cheerfulness  like  other 
young  girls." 

"But  this,  sweet  mamma,  is  too  much  to  sacrifice. 
It  is  too  much  for  you  to  give  up  Saratoga  and  Na- 
hant,  where  you  meet  so  many  friends  and  admirers, 
and  where  you  enjoy  and  adorn  society  so  much. 
Mamma,  do  not  think  of  giving  this  pleasure  up,  and 
burying  yourself  for  me  in  the  pine  woods.  Let  us 
go  to  Saratoga." 

"  My  love !  I  tell  you  the  long,  fatiguing  journey, 
the  crowded  hotels,  the  execrable  tables,  the  wretched 
attendance,  and  the  noise  and  confusion,  would  kill 
you,  Rosalie!" 

"And  then  my  sweet  mamma  would  really  be  the 
rich  young  southern  widow  she  is  generally  supposed 
to  be,"  said  the  girl,  gazing  on  her  young  step-mother 
with  a  fond,  sorrowful  smile. 

"  Oh,  Rosalie !  why  did  you  say  that  to  me,  love  ? 
Do  you  believe  in  the  traditional  selfishness  of  all 
step-mothers,  from  the  days  of  Cinderella's  step-dame 
to  yours  ?  Or  have  you  read  such  poetry  as — 

'  There's  nothing  true  but  heaven/ 

till  you  have  lost  faith  in  all  things  ? — poetry  that, 
Heaven  knows,  gives  anything  but  'Glory  to  God, 
and  peace  and  good-will  to  man.'  " 

"Dear  mamma,  I  am  very  sorry  I  said  what  I  did. 


116  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

Oh,  believe  me,  it  was  far  from  rny  heart  to  be  so 
cruelly  unjust  as  I  see  you  must  think  me!  Yon 
selfish — the  most  disinterested  mother  that  ever  cher- 
ished a  poor,  sick,  troublesome  child !  Oh,  forgive 
the  light  and  thoughtless  words  that  could  be  twisted 
into  such  a  hint." 

"  Just  tell  me  how  you  came  to  say  what  you  did, 
Rosalie,  for  the  words  trouble  me." 

"  Nay,  never  heed  them,  dear,  kind  mamma.  For- 
get them ;  they  were  wicked  words,  since  they  gave 
you  pain." 

"  Rosalie,  I  insist  upon  knowing  what  put  such  a 
thought  into  your  head." 

"  Mother,  sometimes  I  hear  things  not  intended  for 
my  ear,  which,  nevertheless,  I  cannot  help  hearing" — 

"  Explain." 

"  Why,  often  when  I  have  been  reclining  in  a 
shaded  window-seat  with  a  book,  or  lying  on  a  dis- 
tant sofa  with  my  eyes  closed,  and  they  think  I  am 
asleep,  or  quite  abstracted,  I  hear  them  say,  '  Poor 
girl,  she  is  a  trouble  to  herself  and  all  around  her.' 
'  She  can  never  live  to  be  a  woman ;  so,  if  it  were  the 
Lord's  will,  it  were  better  she  should  die  now.'  '  Her 
death  would  be  a  great  relief  to  the  young  widow ; 
and,  by  the  way,  Mrs.  Vivian  would  come  into  the 
whole  property  then,  would  she  not?'  That  is  all, 
dear  mamma.  Do  not  let  it  disturb  you.  It  did  not 
disturb  me  the  least." 

Mrs.  Vivian  placed  her  hand  upon  the  bell.  Miss 
Vivian  gently  arrested  her  purpose,  saying — 

"  What  are  you  about  to  do,  mamma  ?" 

"  Ring,  and  order  our  carriage.  I  will  not  stay  in 
this  house,  where  you  are  so  cruelly  wounded,  one 


CHAMBRE    DE   TOILETTE    ET   LA   TROUSSEAU.      117 

minute  longer  than  is  required  to  put  the  horses  to 
the  carriage." 

"  Dear  mother,  you  cannot  surely  imagine  that  it  is 
in  this  house  I  have  ever  been  injured,  in  word  or 
deed  ?" 

"Where,  then,  Rose?  Eose,  you  have  distressed 
me  beyond  all  measure.  Tell  me  where  it  is  that  such 
wanton  words  meet  your  ear?" 

"  Dear  mother,  almost  everywhere  where  you  and  I 
sojourn  for  any  length  of  time.  On  our  own  plan- 
tation; in  our  own  house  at  New  Orleans;  at  our 
place  in  the  pine  woods ;  and  while  we  are  travelling, 
in  steamboats,  in  hotels — in  short,  wherever  the  great 
world  that  knows  us  has  entered." 

The  lady  looked  so  deeply  distressed,  and  the 
maiden  felt  so  grieved  to  see  her  troubled,  that  she 
hastened  to  turn  the  conversation,  by  saying,  gaily — 

"But,  mamma,  you  did  not  finish  telling  me  about 
our  summer  arrangements.  You  said  that  immediately 
after  the  marriage  ceremony,  the  bridal  pair  would  set 
out  on  a  tour  of  the  northern  watering-places,  and 
that  you  and  I  should  go  into  the  pine  woods.  And 
what  next  ?" 

"  We  shall  spend  two  months  in  the  pine  woods, 
where  the  terebinthine  air  is  so  strongly  recommended 
as  the  great  specific  for  weak  or  diseased  lungs ;  and 
where  the  quiet  and  regular  hours,  plain,  simple  food, 
and  gentle  exercise,  will  bring  back  the  colour  to  my 
child's  cheeks.  And,  after  two  months,  when  my 
drooping  rose  will  be  fresh  and  blooming  again,  I  will 
take  her  to  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  there  to  meet 
the  married  pair  by  appointment,  and  who,  it  is  to 
be  hoped,  will  then  be  sufficiently  satisfied  with  each 


118  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

other's  exclusive  society,  to  be  able  to  tolerate  ours 
lor  a  little  while.  When  we  join  them,  we  embark 
across  the  ocean,  and  make  the  tour  of  Europe  to- 
gether— winter  in  Sicily,  and  return  homo  next  spring. 
And  by  that  time,  I  hope,  the  sea  voyage,  the  change 
of  scene  and  of  climate,  will  have  completely  restored 
my  darling  to  health  !" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LOVE     AND    GOLD. 

On  her  forehead  sitteth  pride, 

Crown'd  with  scorn,  and  falcon-eyed, 

Yet  she  beneath,  methinks,  doth  twine 

Silken  smiles  that  seem  divine. 

Can  such  smiles  be  false  and  cold  ? 

Will  she  only  wed  for  gold  ?" — Barry  Cornwall. 

WHILE  Mrs.  Vivian  sat  talking  with  her  daughter 
in  the  bed-chamber  of  Miss  Sutherland,  the  latter  re- 
mained in  the  adjoining  dressing-room,  where  we  left 
her  seated  in  the  easy  chair,  with  her  hands  folded 
upon  her  lap,  and  her  eyes  closed  as  in  gentle  repose, 
only  sometimes  a  half-smothered,  shuddering  sigh  dis- 
turbed the  statue-like  stillness  of  her  form.  It  was  no 
deep  sorrow,  no  great  anxiety,  that  troubled  this 
favourite  of  fortune — only,  being  quite  unused  to 
pain  of  any  sort,  physical  or  mental,  she  was  impatient 
of  its  lightest  touch.  But  she  had  that  day  been  sum- 
moned to  the  presence  of  her  father,  and  by  him  had 
bjeii  informed  of  Mr.  Mark  Sutherland's  whole  plan, 


LOVE   AND   GOLD.  119 

as  he  had  just  learned  it  from  the  hitter.  The  planter 
had  told  his  daughter,  with  distinct  and  dreadful  de- 
tail, of  all  the  numerous  privations,  toils,  hardships, 
and  humiliations,  and  vaguely  hinted  at  a  countless 
variety  of  suffering  she  must  endure,  if  she  should 
become  a  party  to  her  lover's  purpose.  He  had  fur- 
ther assured  her,  that  if  she  should  remain  firm  in 
opposing  the  plan  of  her  lover,  his  resolution  must 
finally  yield  to  his  affection  for  herself.  And  at  last 
he  had  wrung  from  his  daughter  a  promise,  that  she 
would  make  the  total  resignation  of  Mr.  Mark  Suther- 
land's plans  the  only  condition  upon  which  their 
marriage  should  proceed.  And  so  the  interview  be- 
tween father  and  daughter  had  closed ;  and  Miss 
Sutherland  had  returned  to  her  room  with  little  dis- 
position to  be  amused  by  the  variety  and  splendour 
of  her  newly-arrived  trousseau.  And,  by  seeming 
lassitude  and  nonchalance,  she  had  drawn  upon  her- 
self the  unjust  censure  of  Mrs.  Vivian,  and  the  won- 
dering compassion  of  the  more  sympathetic  Rosalie. 

India  never  for  an  instant  doubted  her  power  over 
Mark  Sutherland ;  nay,  she  never  mentally  even 
limited  the  extent  of  that  power.  The  worst  she  anti- 
cipated was  a  controversy  with  her  betrothed.  That 
this  controversy  could  end  in  any  other  manner  than 
in  her  own  favour,  she  never  once  inquired.  That  his 
fanaticism  must  yield  to  her  influence,  she  felt  certain. 
But  she  did  not  like  to  have  to  exert  this  influence. 
She  admired  and  honoured  Mark  Sutherland  above 
all  men — nay,  there  were  times  when  she  feared  him 
above  all  things.  And  she  loved  him  as  those  of  her 
clirnel  only  love.  And  with  all  her  faults,  this  spoiled 
child  of  fortune  was  too  true  a  woman  to  wish  to  take 


120     IXDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

the  position  and  tone  of  a  dictator  to  the  man  she  so 
loved.  Nay,  she  felt  indignant  with  all  concerned  in 
thrusting  upon  her  such  inevitable,  yet  such  repul- 
sive, "greatness."  And  now  she  sat  trying  to  corn- 
pose  her  nerves  and  collect  her  thoughts  for  the 
unavoidable  interview  to  which  she  momentarily  ex- 
pected to  be  summoned. 

She  had  not  much  longer  to  wait.  A  servant  soon 
entered,  and,  bowing,  informed  her  that  Mr.  Suther- 
land requested  the  favour  of  an  interview  at  her 
earliest  convenience,  and  desired  to  know  when  and 
where  she  would  receive  him. 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Sutherland  ?"  inquired  the  young 
lady. 

"  In  the  library,  Miss." 

"  Proceed  thither  and  announce  me,  then." 

Arrived  at  the  library,  the  man  opened  the  door, 
and  merely  saying,  "  Miss  Sutherland,  sir,"  held  it 
open  until  she  had  passed  in,  and  then  closing  it, 
retired. 

And  India  found  herself  alone  with  Mark.  He  was 
sitting  at  a  central  library-table,  leaning  with  his 
head  resting  upon  his  hand ;  his  face  was  very  pale, 
his  countenance  haggard,  his  dark  hair  slightly 
dishevelled,  his  manner  disturbed  and  anxious,  yet 
withal  controlled.  He  arose  and  advanced  to  meet 
her,  led  her  to  a  sofa,  and  placed  himself  beside  her. 
Taking  her  hand  in  his  own,  and  pressing  it  gently, 
he  looked  down  into  her  face,  regarding  her  with  a 
grave,  sweet,  sad,  almost  solemn  expression  of  counte- 
nance ;  and,  after  a  brief  pause,  he  said,  "  My  dearest 
India,  you  cannot  be  at  a  loss  to  understand  my  mo- 
tive for  requesting  this  interview?" 


LOVE   AND    GOLD.  1'2 1 

He  paused,  as  expecting  her  assent,  but  she  did  not 
reply  in  any  way.  She  did  not  even  lift  her  glance 
from  the  carpet.  He  pressed  her  hand  fondly,  and 
resumed :  "  My  love,  the  time  has  come,  the  opportu- 
nity is  presented  for  us — even  for  us,  my  India — to 
put  in  practice  some  of  those  high  examples  of  hero- 
ism, which  in  others  have  so  often  won  our  fervent 
admiration.  Even  we,  my  India,  may" — 

She  arrested  his  serious  words  by  suddenly  drawing 
her  hand  away,  and  hurriedly  exclaiming,  "  I  have 
heard  something  of  your  purpose  of  manumitting  the 
people  on  your  various  plantations.  But  I  would 
prefer  to  hear  your  plan  of  benevolence,  or  philan- 
thropy, whichever  it  may  be,  from  your  own  lips,  un- 
warped  by  prejudice,  and  uncoloured  by  passion,  and 
with  as  little  preface  as  possible  /" 

The  coldness  and  reserve  of  her  words  and  tones 
smote  him  to  the  heart.  Nevertheless,  he  replied, 
"  My  purpose  is  no  plan  of  benevolence  or  philan- 
thropy, my  dear  India,  but  a  simple  act  of  justice, 
originating  in  a  simple  impulse  of  conscientiousness." 
Then  gently  repossessing  himself  of  her  hand,  he  held 
it  tenderly  in  his  own,  while  he  began,  and,  for  the 
fourth,  time  since  his  return  home,  related  all  the 
mental  and  moral  experiences  that  had  led  him  to 
determine  upon  the  contemplated  act  of  emancipation. 
She  heard  him  out  without  again  interrupting  him. 
She  sat  very  still,  with  her  face  pale  and  impassable, 
and  her  eyes  cast  down.  She  was  no  match  for  him 
in  argument,  yet,  nevertheless,  seeing  that  he  silently 
awaited  her  answer,  and  preferring  to  convert  rather 
than  to  cast  him  off,  she  recalled  and  repeated  all  the 
arguments  she  had  ever  heard  in  defence  of  slavery ; 


122  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

she  began  by  saying  that  she  thought  the  existence 
of  the  system  of  slavery  to  be  the  manifest  will  and 
ordination  of  Divine  Providence ;  and  she  wondered 
how  any  rational  being  could  doubt  it.  Was  not 
their  present  subordinate  position  here  infinitely 
preferable  to  their  former  savage  and  cannibal  con- 
dition on  the  coast  of  Congo  ?  Here  at  least  they  were 
Christianized. 

A  smile  dawned  upon  the  young  man's  countenance. 
She  saw  and  felt  it.  Her  cheek  flushed,  and  she 
hastened  to  say — 

"  They  must  be  blind  indeed,  Mr.  Sutherland,  who 
cannot  see  in  the  enslavement  of  the  African  race  by 
the  Anglo-Saxons  the  purpose  of  Divine  Providence 
to  civilize  Africa." 

Mark  Sutherland  took  her  hand,  and  replied 
gently— 

"  My  dear  India,  we  do  not  deny  that  God  continu- 
ally brings  good  out  of  evil ;  but  is  that  a  justification 
of  the  evil  ?  And  even  admitting,  for  argument's  sake, 
that  the  reduction  of  a  portion  of  the  Ethiopian  race 
to  slavery  by  the  Anglo-Americans  is  to  be  the  means 
of  Christianizing  them,  is  it  not  full  time,  after  two 
hundred  years  of  bondage,  that  some  of  this  harvest 
sowed  with  tears  and  blood  should  be  reaped  ? — that 
some  of  these  good  fruits  should  begin  to  be  enjoyed  ?" 

"  Besides,"  said  Miss  Sutherland,  eluding  his  ques- 
tion and  evading  his  eye,  "there  is  a  fitness  in  these 
relations  between  the  European  and  the  African  races 
• — Europeans  could  not  engage  in  agricultural  labour 
under  the  burning  heat  of  our  Southern  sun" 

"  But  why  enslave  the  negroes — why  not  emancipate 
and  hire  them  ?"  interrupted  Mark. 


LOVE   AND   GOLD.  123 

"  O !  you  know,''  she  replied,  hastily,  "  that  the 
negroes  will  not  work  effectually,  unless  driven  to  it." 

"  Plantation  slaves  will  not,  I  grant  you ;  but  what 
has  reduced  them  to  this  hopeless  and  inert  con- 
dition?" 

"  I  do  not  know  why  you  should  call  their  condition 
hopeless — I  think,  upon  the  whole,  they  are  at  least 
as  hopeful  and  as  happy  as  poor  white  people,  or  free 
blacks.  And  I  never  heard  of  a  bad  master,  who  was 
not  also  a  bad  son,  brother,  husband,  father,  neighbour 
— in  short,  who  was  not  a  bad  Christian.  And  if  you 
feel  a  call  to  reform  the  world,  Mark  Sutherland,  why 
not  begin  at  the  right  end,  and  Christianize  it — and 
all  other  reform  will  follow  early,  and  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Why  not  do  that  ?" 

"  Because,  my  dear  India,  unluckily  the  world  thinks 
itself  already  Christian.  'And  if  the  light  that  is  in 
it  be  darkness,  how  great  is  that  darkness  ?'  Neither, 
my  dear  girl,  am  I  the  missionary  to  dispel  it.  I  am 
quite  unworthy  of,  and  unpretending  to,  the  name  of 
Christian,  and  have  no  presumption  to  begin  reform- 
ing the  world,  either  at  the  right  end  or  the  wrong 
end.  I  only  wish  to  do  what  I  consider  a  simple  act 
of  justice,  in  a  matter  between  me  and  my  own  con- 
science." 

"I  do  not  understand  why  your  'conscience'  should 
meddle  in  the  matter.  The  system  appears  to  me  to 
be  perfectly  right — every  thing  that  we  can  wish. 
There  is  a  beautiful  adaptation  in  the  mutual  relations 
existing  between  the  Anglo-Saxon  master  and  the 
Ethiopian  slave;  for,  observe,  the  Anglo-Saxon  is 
highly  intellectual,  strong,  proud,  firm,  self-willed,  im- 
pelled to  govern,  gifted  with  great  mental  independ- 


124  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF    PEARL    K1YKK. 

ence;  the  Ethiopian,  on  the  contrary,  is  very  ?</nntel- 
lectual,  weak,  lowly  in  mind,  imitative,  affectionate, 
docile,  easily  controlled — and  these  traits  of  character 
so  harmonize  in  this  connection,  that  it  seems  to  need 
only  the  spirit  of  Christianity  to  make  it  a  beautiful 
and  happy  correspondence." 

"  I  think,  my  dearest  girl,  that  even  in  that  case  the 
'  beautiful  and  happy  correspondence'  would  be  like 
Irish  reciprocity — all  on  one  side.  Selfishness  so  blinds 
us,  India" 

I  have  no  space  to  dilate  on  what  was  said  on  either 
side.  Both  grew  very  serious,  earnest,  and  emphatic. 
India  became  heated,  fevered;  she  brought  forward 
every  plea  she  had  ever  heard  pressed  in  favour  of  her 
own  side  of  the  controversy ;  but  she  was  not  his 
equal  in  logic.  Baffled  and  disappointed  in  her  failure, 
and  unnerved  by  the  strangeness  of  anxiety  and  con- 
tention, she  suddenly  burst  into  tears,  and  passion- 
ately exclaimed — 

"  You  do  not  love  me !  You  never  loved  me!  You 
prefer  the  fancied  welfare  of  these  miserable  negroes 
to  my  comfort  and  happiness !" 

Mark  Sutherland  saw  and  felt  only  her  tears  and 
sorrow,  and  addressed  himself  to  soothe  her  with  all 
a  lover's  solicitude.  She  took  advantage  of  his  ten- 
derness— perhaps  she  even  misunderstood  it.  She  had 
failed  to  convince  his  judgment  by  her  arguments, 
failed  to  change  his  purpose  by  opposition  and  re- 
proaches, and  now  she  resolved  to  try  the  power  of 
love — of  persuasion.  She  let  him  draw  her  to  his 
bosom  ;  she  dropped  her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  with 
her  blushing,  tearful  face  and  soft  hair  against  his 
cheek,  her  arm  upon  his  neck,  and  half-caressing,  suf- 


LOVE    AND    GOLD.  125 

fered  herself  to  be  caressed,  and  let  him  feel  how 
sweet  her  love  was,  by  the  unutterable  sweetness  of 
her  shy  caress ;  and  when  his  heart  was  weak  unto 
death,  she  pleaded  with  him,  yieldingly,  submissively, 
tearfully,  as  with  one  who  had  the  right  and  the  power 
of  ordering  her  destiny — that  he  would  not  doom  her 
to  a  lot  so  cruel,  so  terrible;  that  she  was  so  unpre- 
pared for  it;  that  he  must  know  she  was;  that  it 
would  kill  her  in  a  year. 

All  this  was  pleaded  with  her  head  upon  his 
shoulder,  with  her  face  against  his  cheek,  with  her 
hand  pressed  around  his  neck.  This  seductive  gen- 
tleness was  very  hard  to  resist,  indeed.  He  answered — 

"  My  dearest  India,  you  are  sole  mistress  of  your 
own  destiny,  and,  to  a  great  extent,  of  mine.  I  did 
hope  that  you  would  have  borne  me  company  in  my 
pilgrimage,  and,  even  from  the  first,  have  shared  my 
lot,  hard  as  it  is  sure  to  be.  "We  have  both  read  and  '> 
heard  how  women,  even  the  most  tenderly  reared  and 
delicate,  have,  for  affection,  for  constancy,  for  truth, 
and  the  great  idea  of  duty,  borne  poverty,  toil,  hard- 
ships and  privations,  even  with  a  better  grace  and 
with  more  fortitude  and  patience  than  the  strongest/ 
men.  But  I  begin  to  think  that  history  and  tradition 
must  exaggerate.  How,  indeed,  could  my  own  fragile 
lady-love  endure  what  my  strong  frame  must  encounter 
and  overcome?  No,  dear  India,  ardently  as  I  once 
desired  that  you  should  be,  from  this  time  forward, 
the  partner  of  my  lot,  I  see  and  feel  that  the  wish 
was  thoughtless,  unreasonable,  selfish.  It  was  exact- 
ing far  too  much.  No,  dearest,  painful  as  it  must  be 
to  tear  myself  from  you,  I  must  go  forth  alone  to  do 
battle  with  an  adverse  fate.  Yet  whv  should  I  call 


12G  INDIA.      THE  PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

it  adverse  ?  I  go  forth  with  youth,  and  health,  and 
strength ;  with  a  liberal  education,  and  some  talent ; 
and  when  I  have  attained  fame  and  fortune,  then,  like 
a  true  knight,  I  will  come  and  lay  them  at  my  lady's 
feet,  and  claim — no,  not  claim — but  sue  for  my  blessed 
reward." 

She  said  that  she  could  not  let  him  go ;  it  would 
break  her  heart  to  part  with  him.  Could  he  leave 
her  to  break  her  heart  ?  "Would  he  not  give  up  his 
purpose  for  her  sake,  and  stay  with  her  ?  Her  head 
was  still  upon  his  shoulder,  and  her  face  against  his 
cheek.  With  a  slight  movement,  at  once  shy  and 
fond,  she  pressed  her  lips  to  his  neck,  and  repeated 
her  question:  Would  he  not  give  up  his  purpose  for 
her  sake,  and  stay  with  her  ? 

He  felt  his  fortitude  and  strength  fast  leaving  him. 
Amidst  the  fondest  caresses,  he  said — 

"My  own  dear  India!  how  have  I  merited  such 
love?  My  India,  I  will  not  stay  so  long  as  I  said.  I 
will  not  stay  till  I  have  won  fame  or  fortune.  I  can- 
not remain  away  so  long.  But  as  soon  as  I  have  won 
a  modest  competence — in  a  year  or  two — I  will  be 
back  to  claim  my  blessing." 

Her  tears  fell  like  rain.  Still  she  clasped,  and 
pressed,  and  kissed  his  neck,  and  said  that  would  not 
do  at  all ;  he  must  not  leave  her — no,  not  for  a  week ; 
she  could  not,  would  not,  bear  it ;  she  should  die. 

He  kissed  away  her  tears,  fast  as  they  fell,  and  then 
proposed  again  that  she  should  go  with  him,  promising 
to  do  more  than  man  ever  did,  or  even  could  do,  to 
shield  her  from  hardship  till  all  hardship  should  be 
over,  as  it  surely  would  be  in  time. 

With  a  few  deep-drawn  sighs,  she  lifted  up  her 


LOVE   AND   GOLD.  127 

head,  and  answered,  No,  she  could  not  go ;  she  was 
far  too  delicate  to  bear  such  a  change ;  he  ought  to 
know  it,  and  ought  not  to  ask  it.  No,  if  he  loved  her, 
he  must  give  up  his  project,  and  stay  with  her ;  and 
if  he  did  love  her,  he  surely  would  do  it.  Any  man 
that  really  loved  would  do  that  much  for  his  lady. 

She  was  evidently  merging  from  her  tender,  alluring 
mood,  into  an  irritable  and  capricious  one. 

Full  of  doubt  and  trouble  at  her  words,  he  an- 
swered— 

"  My  dearest  India,  I  told  you  that  this  purposed 
action  of  mine  is  a  measure  of  conscience.  You 
know  it  involves  an  immense  sacrifice.  Do  you  sup- 
pose that  I  would  make  that  sacrifice,  except  from  the 
most  righteous  principles,  and  do  you  suppose  I  can 
possibly  abandon  such  principles  ?  My  India,  if  from 
my  great  love  for  you  I  could  now  sacrifice  my  con- 
science to  your  convenience,  you  would  soon  lose  all 
esteem  for  me,  and,  in  losing  all  esteem,  lose  all  com- 
fort in  loving  me.  My  India,  no  honourable  woman 
can  continue  to  love  a  man  who  has  forfeited  his  own 
and  her  respect.  Do  you  not  know  that?" 

Coldly  she  put  away  his  encircling  arms — coldly 
she  withdrew  herself  from  him,  saying — 

"  I  see  how  it  is,  sir  I  You  do  not  love  me ;  you 
are  faithless ;  you  seek  an  excuse  to  break  with  me, 
by  putting  our  union  upon  conditions  impossible  for 
me  to  comply  with.  You  need  not  have  taken  such 
a  crooked  path  to  a  plain  end,  sir ;  you  needed  only 
to  have  frankly  named  your  wish,  to  have  had  your 

plighted  troth  restored.  You  are  free,  sir to  unite 

yourself  with  one  of  the  favoured  race,  the  objects  of 
your  manifest  preference,  if  you  please" 


128     INDIA.   THE  PEAKL  OF  PEARL  KIVEK. 

This  last,  most  insulting  clause  was  cast  at  him 
with  a  glance  of  insufferable  scorn,  as  she  turned  to 
leave  the  room. 

His  brow  crimsoned  with  the  sudden  smite  of  shame, 
and — 

"This  from  you,  India!"  he  exclaimed. 

She  was  looking  at  him  still;  but  the  scorn  and 
anger  slowly  passed  from  her  face,  as  he  rose  and  ad- 
vanced towards  her,  saying — 

"  But  you  are  excited ;  I  will  not  lay  your  bitter 
words  to  heart,  nor  suffer  you  to  leave  me  in  anger. 
Dearest  India !" 

She  had  already  regretted  her  sharp  words;  love 
and  anger  were  balanced  in  her  bosom  so  evenly,  that 
it  took  but  a  trifle  to  disturb  the  equilibrium ;  and 
now  his  forbearance  and  his  kind  words  completely 
upset  the  scale,  and  love  ascended.  Turning  to  him 
once  more,  and  throwing  herself  in  his  open  arms,  she 
burst  into  tears,  and  said — 

"  Dearest  Mark,  only  give  up  this  mad,  mad  project, 
and  I  am  all  yours.  Oh,  you  know  I  am,  any  way ; 
for  even  now  the  separation  that  would  pain  you, 
would  kill  or  madden  me!  But,  oh!  you  know  I 
cannot  endure  the  hardships  you  would  prepare  for 
me;  they  would  be  equally  fatal.  Give  it  up,  Mark! 
Dear  Mark,  give  it  up,  for  my  sake,  for  your  dear 
mother's  sake,  for  all  our  sakes!  Stay  with  us!  do 
not  divide  us,  and  break  our  hearts,  by  leaving  us ! 
We  all  love  you  so !  you  know  we  do !  We  would 
do  anything  in  the  world  for  you,  if  you  would  stay 
with  us !  And  I  only  grow  angry  and  lose  my  senses, 
and  utter  mad  words,  when  you  talk  of  leaving  us! 
Don't  go,  Mark!  Dearest  Mark,  don't  leave  us." 


LOVE   AXD   GOLD.  129 

And  so  she  pleaded,  hiding  her  tears  and  blushes 
on  his  shoulder,  and  clasping,  and  pressing,  and  kiss- 
ing his  neck  and  cheek.  The  pleadings  of  young 
beaut j  to  young  love,  most  powerful,  most  painful  to 
resist,  yet  they  were  resisted,  mournfully,  but  calmly 
and  firmly,  resisted. 

She  raised  her  head  from  his  shoulder. 

"  And  you  persist  in  your  purpose  ?"  she  said. 

"  My  India,  I  cannot  do  otherwise." 

"  Notwithstanding  all  the  suffering  you  may  cause 
your  mother,  your  relatives,  and  me?" 

"  My  own  India,  .1  would  I  could  bear  all  your 
grief  in  my  own  person." 

"But  you  adhere  to  your  resolution?" 

"  I  have  no  alternative." 

"And  this  is  your  final  decision?" 

He  bowed. 

"  Even  if  you  should  lose  me  for  ever  ?" 

He  started,  as  if  suddenly  struck  by  a  bullet.  He 
changed  colour,  but  did  not  speak.  She  regarded 
him  fixedly.  At  last  she  said,  slowly  and  calmly — 

"  Will  you  please  to  answer  my  question  ?" 

"India,"  he  said,  "I  will  not  for  a  moment,  admit 
such  a  possibility.  God  will  never  repay  fidelity  to 
conscience  with  calamity." 

"Perhaps  it  might  not  be  a  calamity.  I  think  it 
were  well  we  should  understand  each  other.  The 
question  is  now  before  you — do  not  evade  it."' 

"My  India,  it  is  not  practically  before  me.  No, 
thank  Heaven,  the  intolerable  alternative  of  resigning 
you  or  my  principles  is  not  yet  before  me." 

"  By  all  our  past  dreams,  and  present  hopes,  of  hap- 
piness, I  assure  you  that  the  alternative  is  now  snb- 
8 


180  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

mitted  to  you,  sir.  And  I  adjure  you,  by  your  con- 
science, and  by  the  strength  of  your  vaunted  princi- 
ples, to  decide  the  question,  which  I  now  repeat  to 
you — if  the  adherence  of  your  present  purpose  in- 
volve the  final  loss  of  my  hand  and  heart,  do  you  still 
persist  in  that  purpose  ?" 

Something  in  her  tone  caught  up  his  glance,  to  rivet 
it  upon  her.  Never  in  all  their  lives  had  she  seemed 
to  him  so  beautiful,  so  regnant,  so  irresistibly  attrac- 
tive. He  gazed  upon,  he  studied  her  face ;  nor  did 
she  turn  it  from  him,  nor  avert  her  glance.  She  met 
his  searching  gaze  proudly,  fearlessly,  imperially ;  she 
seemed  to  wish  that  he  should  read  her  soul,  and 
know  its  immutable  determination.  There  was  no 
pique,  no  anger,  no  weakness,  or  wavering,  on  that 
high,  haughty  brow  now;  there  was  nothing  but 
calm,  indomitable  resolution.  He  gazed  upon  her  in 
wonder,  and  in  sorrow,  some  time  fascinated  by  the 
imperious  beauty  of  her  young  brow,  and  marvelling 
that  this  could  be  the  tender,  seductive  woman  that 
lay  cooing  on  his  bosom  scarce  an  hour  ago.  It 
would  not  do  to  waver  now.  He  took  her  hand  again. 
He  answered,  solemnly — 

"  India,  you  have  adjured  me,  by  my  conscience, 
by  the  sacredness  of  my  honour,  to  answer  your  ques- 
tion, and  say  whether,  were  the  alternative  finally 
before  me,  I  should  resign  my  resolution,  or  la  re- 
signed by  you.  India,  I  may  not,  must  not,  evaile 
this.  And  I  answer  now,  by  my  sacred  honour  and 
my  hopes  of  heaven,  come  what  may,  of  trial,  of  suf- 
fering, or  of  agony,  I  will  never  forego  this  purpose, 
to  which  reason  and  conscience  alike  urge  me." 

"And  that  is  your  final  determination?" 


LOVE   AND   GOLD.  131 

He  bowed. 

"Now,  then,  hear  mine;  but  first  I  give  you  back 
your  plighted  troth  and  its  less  perishable  symbol" — 
here  she  drew  a  diamond  ring  from  her  finger,  and 
handed  it  to  him — "  and  I  remove  your  image  from 
my  heart  with  less  difficulty  than  I  disentangle  this 
miniature  one  from  my  chain" — here  she  took  a  locket, 
set  with  diamonds,  from  her  chatelaine,  and  handed 
him.  He  received  both  pledges  back,  and  stood  with 
a  certain  mournful  dignity,  awaiting  her  further  words 
and  actions.  "And  now,"  she  said,  "let  me  make 
you  thoroughly  acquainted  with  my  thought  upon 
this  subject  which  so  interests  you,  so  that  you  may 
see  how  far,  as  the  East  is  from  the  West,  is  my 
thought  from  yours.  Know,  that  I  like  the  position 
that  I  occupy,  the  power  that  I  wield ;  our  plantation 
is  as  large  as  a  German  or  Italian  principality ;  our 
people  are  better  governed,  more  prosperous,  and  more 
profitable,  than  the  subjects  of  such  a  principality. 
We  have  more  power  than  its  prince.  And  I  was 
born  to  this  power;  I  am  accustomed  to  it;  I  like  it. 
Heaven  crowned  me  with  it ;  and  do  you  think  that  I 
will  discrown  my  brow  to  become — what?  A  drudg- 
ing peasant?  NEVER!  And  now,  hear  my  oath.  As 
you  are  the  'dupe'  of  a  party,  we  separate,  never  to 
meet  again  until  you  have  recovered  manhood  and 
independence  enough  to  abjure  this  pernicious  influ- 
ence, and  abandon  the  mad  project  to  which  it  has 
forced  you — so  help  me  God !" 

And,  turning  haughtily  away,  she  left  the  room. 


132  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

CHAPTER  YII. 

REACTION. 

"  Pray  Heaven  for  firmness  thy  whole  soul  to  bend 

To  this  thy  purpose — to  begin,  pursue, 
With  thoughts  all  fixed  and  feelings  purely  kind ; 
Strength  to  complete,  and  with  delight  review, 
And  grace  to  give  the  praise  where  all  is  due." — Gharlet  Wilcox. 

IT  was  over.  Until  this,  he  had  not  realized  his 
true  position.  Nay,  he  did  not  fully  realize  it  now. 
He  sat,  as  one  stunned,  in  the  seat  into  which  he  had 
dropped  when  the  door  closed  behind  her.  Until  now, 
he  had  been  elevated  by  a  high  enthusiasm  in  his 
purpose,  and  supported  by  a  firm  faith  in  her  sym- 
pathy and  co-operation — a  faith,  the  strength  of  which 
he  had  not  known  until  it  was  stricken  from  him,  and 
he  was  left  weaker  than  a  child. 

"Why !  it  really  had  not  seemed  so  great  a  sacrifice 
to  resign  wealth  and  position  with  her  by  his  side — 
with  her  approving  looks,  and  smiles,  and  words — with 
her  cordial,  affectionate  concurrence.  And  how  often 
the  picture  had  glowed  before  his  imagination,  as  he 
recalled  her  kindling  cheek,  and  kindling  eye,  and 
fervent  imagination,  while  reading  with  him  of  some 
heroic  deed  of  self-devotion  in  another  I  And  when  he 
thought  of  all  that  earnest  enthusiasm  with  himself 

for  its  object forgive  him,  it  was  no  better  than  a 

'  lover's  aspiration,  perhaps ;  but  all  his  soul  took  fire 
at  her  image,  and  all  things  seemed  easy  to  do,  to  be, 
or-  to  suffer,  for  such  an  unspeakable  joy.  That  he 


REACTION.  133 

should  be  her  Curtius,  her  Bayard,  her  Hampden, 
Sydney,  her  hero.  And  until  now,  he  had  believed 
this,  and  had  lived  and  acted  under  a  strange  illusion. 
And  if  for  an  instant  his  faith  in  her  sympathy  had 
ever  been  shaken,  it  was  merely  as  the  Christian  be- 
liever's trust  is  shaken,  only  to  strike  its  roots  the 
deeper  after  the  jar. 

But  now — oh !  this  was  indeed  the  bitterness  of 
death  !  In  the  first  stunned  moment  after  his  fall  from 
such  a  height  of  confidence  and  joy,  into  such  a  depth 
of  desolation  and  wretchedness,  he  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve in  his  misery,  far  less  analyze  it,  and  detect  its 
hidden  and  bitterest  element.  And  this  was  its  bit- 
terest element — the  ascertained  antagonism,  of  his 
India — her  utter  antagonism !  This  was  the  weapon 
that  had  felled  him  to  the  earth.  This  was  the  fang 
of  the  adder,  struck  deep  in  his  heart,  and  poisoning- 
all  his  soul ! — with  what  ?  With  distrust ! — distrust 
of  her,  of  himself,  of  all  men  and  women  !  As  yet,  all 
this  he  felt,  without  acknowledging,  nay,  without  per- 
ceiving it.  He  sat  there  as  one  in  a  trance.  And  the 
hours  that  passed  over  him  were  as  a  blank. 

He  was  aroused  by  psychological  disturbance. 

Why  should  he  immolate  himself  upon  the  altar  of 
a  principle  that  one  half  of  the  Christian  world  would 
consider  a  mere  madness  ?  And  how  if,  after  all,  it 
was  madness  ?  How  if  he  was  self-deceived  ? — actuated 
by  fanaticism,  and  not  by  legitimate  heroism  ?  She 
whose  whole  soul  had  glowed  at  the  mere  mention  of 
true  magnanimity — she  whose  approbation  had  been 
the  ardently  desired  reward  of  his  sacrifice — the  object 
of  his  young  heart's  passionate  aspiration — how  had 
slie  regarded  him  ?  As  a  hero  or  a  fanatic !  How  had 


134:  INDIA.      THE    PEARL    OF    PEARL    RIVEH. 

she  received  him  in  his  new  aspect  ?  Not  as  he  had 
often  fondly  prevised — not  with  a  faithful,  loving  clasp, 
strengthening  his  hands — not  with  a  fervent,  inspiring 
gaze,  imparting  courage  and  energy  to  his  soul — not 
with  approval  and  sympathy,  and  faithful  cordial  con- 
currence, confirming  his  faith — arming  him  for  any 
conflict — strengthening  him  for  any  sacrifice.  Oh  I  no, 
no;  far  otherwise.  She  had  heard  him  with  repelling 
hand  and  averted  eye,  and  scorn,  and  loathing,  and 
repulsion,  that  had  left  him  bitterly  disappointed, 
humbled,  weakened,  prostrated,  paralyzed  by  self- 
doubt  1 

Was  she  right  ?     "Was  he  a  madman  ? 

Oh  I  there  had  been  an  element  of  worship  and  of 
aspiration  in  his  love  for  India.  And  was  this  idol  a 
mere  stone,  upon  which  he  had  broken  himself  in 
vain?  He  could  not  bear  to  think  so.  He  was 
willing  to  believe  himself  a  fool  or  a  madman,  so  that 
her  image  remained  undimmed,  unspotted,  unchanged 
in  its  shrine — so  that  she  was  still  a  perfect  woman, 
angel,  goddess ! 

And  was  this  not  truly  so  ?  Was  her  decision  not 
really  just,  and  was  he  not  indeed  a  fanatic? 

To  believe  this,  would  end  the  struggle  and  the 
agony  at  once.  To  confess  this,  would  restore  harmony 
and  happiness  to  the  grievously-disturbed  family 
circle,  and  peace  and  joy  to  himself  and  his  India ! 
How  easy  to  step  down  from  his  pedestal  of  principle, 
frankly  confess  it  to  have  been  a  false  position,  taken 
in  a  fit  of  generous,  youthful  enthusiasm ;  to  jest  over 
it  with  his  friends— -friends  recovered  by  that  step;  to  call 
himself  Don  Quixotte  the  younger,  laugh  at  the  matter, 
and  dismiss  it  to  oblivion.  And  then  India !  This 


REACTION.  135 

beautiful,  bewildering  girl  would  be  his  own  in  five 
days.  That  vision  whelmed  him  in  vague,  intense 
delirium. 

Would  it  be  so  easy  to  step  from  his  post,  to  abjure 
his  principles,  to  silence  his  conscience  ? 

No!  Even  amid  the  intoxicating  dream  of  his 
beautiful  India's  love,  his  stern  soul  answered,  No  ! 

He  knew  that  he  had  not  taken  a  false  position — 
the  Tempter  could  not  persuade  him  that  he  had  done 
so.  He  knew  himself  to  be  right ;  he  knew  that  he 
was  not  self-deceived.  Not  even  now,  in  this  hour  of 
bitter  trial,  would  his  moral  sense  be  so  confused.  In 
his  conscience,  the  dividing  line  between  right  and 
wrong  was  too  clearly,  distinctly,  sharply  denned,  and 
there  was  no  possibility  of  confusing  or  mistaking  the 
boundary. 

And  so  the  mental  sophistry  of  the  temptation 
ended. 

And  now  for  the  moral  conflict.  Admitted  that  his 
convictions  were  those  of  pure  rational  duty,  why 
should  he  sacrifice  so  much  to  them  ?  Did  others 
around  him  do  so  ?  Did  any  one  live  up  to  his  or  her 
high  idea  of  right  ?  On  the  contrary,  who  did  not 
silence  the  voice  of  conscience  every  day  of  their 
lives  ?  Who  in  this  world  was  not,  in  their  turn,  and 
in  their  way,  more  or  less  unjust,  selfish  ?  And  did 
they  not,  the  best  of  them,  compound  for  all  this  by 
going  to  church,  and  confessing  themselves  "  lost  and 
ruined  sinners,"  and  returning  with  a  clean  conscience, 
like  a  tablet  newly  sponged  over,  and  prepared  to  be 
inscribed  all  over  again  with  the  same  sins,  to  be 
effaced  in  the  same  manner  ?  Now,  why  could  not 
he  also  do  his  pleasure,  enjoy  his  wealth,  hold  to  this 


136     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

world,  and  secure  heaven — all  on  these  easy  terms'/ 
It  was  only  to  make  a  profession. 

It  would  not  do.  His  heart,  it  is  true,  had  not  been 
touched  by  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  yet  his  mind 
was  too  clear  and  right  to  deceive  itself  so  delightfully 
about  this  matter.  That  grace  of  God  which  hath 
appeared  unto  all  men,  taught  him  that  Christ  was 
not  the  minister  of  sin — not  one  who  gave  out  pa- 
tents conferring  impunity  in  sin,  and  signed  with  his 
own  life-blood — not  one  who  wiped  out  the  sins  of 
the  soul,  as  men  sponge  out  marks  from  a  note-book, 
to  make  room  for  more  of  the  same  sort  of  matter — 
not  one  to  make  his  own  righteousness  the  shield  for 
our  wilful  unrighteousness.  In  a  Avord,  he  felt  and 
knew  that  Christ  was  not  the  minister  of  sin. 

This  sorely  tried  and  tempted  man  had  made  no 
professions,  had  used  no  cant,  but  he  nevertheless  pos- 
sessed a  large  portion  of  natural  conscientiousness, 
and  he  had  a  frank,  light-hearted  manner  of  doing 
right,  bordering  on  levity  and  nonchalance — a  man- 
ner tending  to  mislead  superficial  observers  into 
making  too  shallow  an  estimate  of  the  depth  and 
earnestness  of  his  convictions  and  principles. 

All  his  family,  from  the  cold-hearted,  clear-headed 
Clement  Sutherland,  down  to  the  ardent  and  impul- 
sive India,  had  miscalculated  the  strength  of  his  cha- 
racter and  the  firmness  of  his  purpose.  And  hence 
the  comparative  indifference  with  which  they  had 
hitherto  received  the  communication  of  his  intentions. 
I  say  comparative  indifference;  for  though  indeed  the 
family  were  much  disturbed  that  he  should  for  a  mo- 
ment entertain  such  purposes  as  he  had  revealed,  yet 
none  of  them  had  doubted  that  the  influences  which 


REACTION.  137 

should  be  brought  to  bear  upon  him  would  compel 
him  to  abandon  his  project.  And  thus  agitation  at 
this  time  was  calmness,  perfect  halcyon  peace,  in  com- 
parison with  the  confusion,  the  chaos,  the  tremendous 
storm  of  indignation,  opposition,  and  persecution,  that 
afterwards  arose  and  hurtled  around  him.  There  are 
no  wars  so  bloody  as  civil  wars ;  there  are  no  feuds 
so  deadly  as  family  feuds ;  there  are  no  enemies  so 
bitter,  so  cruel,  so  unrelenting,  as  those  of  our  own 
blood,  when  they  are  enemies!  Others  may  spare, 
but  they  will  never  spare !  Others  may  in  time  be- 
come sated  with  vengeance,  but  they  never!  while 
their  victim  has  one  faculty  of  mind  left  uncrazed,  or 
one  heartstring  unwrung.  Others  may  in  time  be 
touched  by  some  sense  of  justice ;  they  never !  they 
hold  to  and  defend  their  cruelty.  Others  may  repent; 
the;/  never.  It  would  seem  that  a  fatal  blindness  of 
sight  and  hardness  of  heart  fell  upon  them  as  a  judg- 
ment from  Heaven  for  their  unnatural  sin. 

Perhaps  you  think  that  the  days  of  martyrdom 
have  been  passed  ever  since  the  stake  and  the  faggot 
went  into  disrepute ;  and  that  the  spirit  of  persecu- 
tion went  out  with  the  fires  of  Smithfield.  If  you  do, 
may  you  never  have  more  reason  for  thinking  other- 
wise than  is  contained  in  the  simple  narrative  before 
you.  I  am  not  going  to  enter  minutely  into  the  de- 
tails of  all  the  scenes  that  followed  that  last  interview 
between  Mark  and  India.  I  have  all  this  time  gone 
around  and  about  the  subject,  fearing  or  disliking  to 
approach  it.  In  real  life,  evil,  malignant  passion  is 
not  really  the  graceful  and  dignified  and  all  but  too 
fascinating  thing  that  we  see  it  represented  on  the 
stage — for  instance,  in  the  toga  and  buskins  of  Brutus 


138  INDIA.      THE   PEAKL   OF   PEAKL   KIVEK. 

and  Cassius,  or  the  train  and  plumes  of  Lucretia 
Borgia.  Nor  has  it  a  stately,  measured  gait,  a  sono- 
rous utterance,  or  a  grand  gesture.  It  is  a  humiliating 
fact,  but  it  is  a  fact,  that  it  looks  and  behaves  very 
much  more  like  an  excited  Terry  or  Judy  at  a  fair.  It 
shakes  its  fists,  and  strides,  and  vociferates,  and  chokes, 
and  stutters.  Fierce  anger,  hatred,  and  vengeance 
are  of  no  rank.  They  show  just  as  hideous,  revolt- 
ing, and  vulgar,  in  the  prince  or  princess,  as  in  the 
meanest  peasant.  And  all  this  has  been  suggested  by 
the  recollection  of  the  manner  in  which  Mark  Suther- 
land was  treated  by  his  family. 

He  had  made  one  more  attempt  to  obtain  another 
interview  with  India,  by  addressing  to  her  a  note. 
This  note  was  returned,  with  the  seal  undisturbed, 
and  with  an  insulting  menace  to  the  effect  that  any 
communication  addressed  by  Mr.  Mark  Sutherland  to 
Miss  Sutherland  must  be  preceded  by  a  complete  and 
final  renunciation  of  his  present  purposes,  before  it 
could  be  received  by  her.  Full  of  bitterness,  he  wrote 
to  her  again,  and  concluded  his  note  thus  : — 

"I  know  you  now,  India;  I  know  you  perfectly.  I 
no  longer  worship  you.  Alas!  there  is  nothing  in 
you  to  worship,  or  even  to  approve  beyond  your  en- 
chanting beauty.  And  yet  I  love  you  still  for  that 
bewildering  beauty  and  for  the  dream  that  is  passing 
away.  And  you  love  me  for  something  better  than 
that ;  you  love  me,  now  that  for  conscience  I  with- 
stand you,  as  you  never  loved  me  before.  You  wrong 
me  in  taking  yourself  away.  You  take  from  me  mine 
own.  There  is  a  voice  in  your  heart  that  assures  you 
of  this.  But  you  stifle  that  voice.  You  outrage 


REACTION.  139 

Nature — but  beware  !  Be  sure  that  Nature  is  a  dread 
goddess,  and  Nemesis  waits  upon  her  bidding !" 

There  is  something  awful  in  the  just  anger  of  a 
noble-minded,  pure-hearted,  high-spirited  man;  and 
thrice  awful  is  it  to  the  woman  who  loves  him,  when 
that  anger  falls  upon  herself. 

India  received  this  letter,  and  as  she  read  it,  bitter 
and  scalding  tears  fell  upon  it.  He  had  surmised  the 
truth — she  did  love  him  now  with  ten-fold  strength 
and  fervour,  now  that  she  had  tried  and  proved  his 
strength.  There  was  something  in  him  to  love,  to  lean 
upon,  to  worship — something  far  more  reliable,  more 
attractive,  and  more  binding  than  mere  masculine  beauty 
— than  the  stately  form,  the  dark,  spirited  countenance, 
and  the  fascinating  gaiety,  that  had  pleased  her  childish 
fancy.  There  was  firmness,  courage,  fortitude,  moral 
strength;  something  that  a  true  woman  loves  to  rest 
upon,  serve,  adore.  A  wild  and  passionate  longing 
seized  her  heart — to  go  and  stand  by  him  in  his 
emergency — to  help  to  sustain  him,  if  it  were  ever  so 
slight  a  help,  in  this  storm  of  opposition. 

AVhile  the  soul  of  India  was  convulsed  in  the  terri- 
ble struggle  between  her  strong  and  passionate  affec- 
tion, and  her  invincible  spirit  of  antagonism,  Mark 
Sutherland  lingered  at  Cashmere.  The  habit  of  con- 
sidering himself  a  son  of  the  house  could  not  easily  be 
uprooted  ;  and  the  absorption  of  all  his  thoughts  and 
feelings  in  the  subject  of  his  broken  relations  with 
India,  prevented  him,  for  a  time,  from  perceiving  the 
cold  and  scornful  demeanour  of  the  master  of  the 
house.  Had  he  not  been  totally  abstracted  in  mind, 
he  would  not  for  an  hour  have  borne  the  arrogance, 
which  neither  age  nor  relationship  justified. 


140     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

Miss  Sutherland  had  perseveringly  absented  her- 
self from  the  drawing-room,  and  from  the  table — con- 
fining herself  to  her  own  room,  and  taking  her  meals 
there. 

At  length  one  day,  the  family,  as  usual,  with  the 
exception  of  India,  sat  down  to  dinner.  There  were 
present  Clement  and  Paul  Sutherland,  Mrs.  Vivian, 
Miss  Vivian,  Mr.  Boiling,  Mark,  and  Lincoln — a  party 
of  seven  persons  claiming  to  be  refined  women,  or 
honorable  men ;  in  a  word,  ladies  and  gentlemen — 
enough,  under  any  emergency,  to  preserve  the  decen- 
cies of  a  family  dinner-table.  Clement  Sutherland, 
the  host,  sat  with  the  usual  cloud  upon  his  brow. 
When  the  waiter  was  about  to  lift  the  cover  from  the 
dish  before  him,  he  arrested  his  act,  by  saying — 
"  Stop,  sir !  where  is  Miss  Sutherland  ?  Go,  and  let 
her  know  that  dinner  waits." 

The  man  bowed  and  left  the  room.  An  embar- 
rassing pause  and  silence  ensued,  during  which  Cle- 
ment Sutherland  sat  back  in  his  chair,  with  a  scowl 
upon  his  yellow  forehead,  with  an  expression  and  an 
attitude  that  he  doubtless  supposed  to  be  awfully 
tragic  and  imposing,  and  which,  in  truth,  was  inex- 
pressibly disagreeable,  and  even  alarming;  for  all 
present  felt  that  under  all  that  ridiculous  dramatic 
acting  there  was  some  real  offence  meant — some  mean, 
unmanly,  inhospitable  act  to  be  perpetrated.  In  about 
ten  minutes,  the  servant  returned.  Entering,  and 
stepping  lightly,  he  went  up  to  his  master's  side, 
bowed,  and  in  a  low  voice  said — "  Miss  Sutherland, 
sir,  has  ordered  me  to  say  that  she  desires  to  be  ex- 
cused." And,  with  another  bow,  the  waiter  retired, 
and  stood  behind  his,  master's  chair.  Clement  Suther- 


REACTION.  141 

land  started  up  with  an  augry  gesture,  pushed  his 
chair  violently  behind  him,  to  the  risk  of  upsetting 
my  gentleman- waiter,  and  exclaimed — "  Sirs,  I  have 
to  ask  you  if  the  laws  of  hospitality  are  to  be  so 
abused  as  to  exile  my  daughter  from  the  head  of  the 
table,  and  how  long  it  is  your  pleasure  that  this  state 
of  things  shall  continue  ?" 

This  explosion  was  just  as  shocking  as  though  some- 
thing like  it  had  not  been  expected. 

Mark  Sutherland,  with  a  crimsoned  brow,  arose 
from  his  chair. 

Lincoln,  with  perfect  self-possession,  deliberately 
arose,  walked  into  the  hall,  took  down  his  hat,  re- 
turned, and,  standing  before  Clement  Sutherland,  de- 
liberately said — "  Mr.  Sutherland,  permit  me  to  make 
a  due  acknowledgment  of  the  hospitality  you  have  ex- 
tended me,  and  also  to  express  my  regret  that  it  has 
been  so  unpardonably  trespassed  against.  I  shall  be 
most  happy  if  you  will  afford  me  the  opportunity  to 
reciprocate  the  hospitality,  and  atone  for  the  trespass. 
Good  day,  sir. 

"  Oh !  young  man,  you  have  nothing  to  thank  me 
for."  Bowing  to  the  ladies  present,  Lincoln  with- 
drew. Mark  Sutherland  snatched  his  hat,  and,  with- 
out a  word  of  leave-taking,  left  the  room. 

All  the  other  members  of  the  family  circle  remained 
seated  at  the  table,  with  the  exception  of  Miss  Yivian, 
who,  rising,  excused  herself,  and  retired. 

When  Mark  Sutherland  reached  the  rose  terrace, 
he  called  to  Lincoln  to  stop,  and  wait  until  their 
horses  were  saddled.  And  then  he  hastened  off  to  the 
stables  to  give  his  orders. 

In  a  very  short  time  the  horses  were  brought  up, 


142  IXDIA.      THE    PEARL    OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

and  the  young  men  mounted,  and  gallopped  away 
from  the  house.  They  rode  on  in  silence  for  some 
time — Lincoln  buried  in  calm  thought,  and  Mark 
enrapt  in  a  sort  of  fierce  reverie.  At  length  he  backed 
his  horse  close  up  to  Lincoln's  steed,  seized  his  hand, 
and  exclaimed,  "Lauderdale,  how  can  I  ever  atone 
for  exposing  you  to  such  insult  ?" 

•"Insult?  My  dear  fellow" — (he  was  just  about  to 
say,  "  Mr.  Clement  Sutherland  cannot  insult  me ;"  but, 
delicate  and  generous  in  his  consideration  for  the 
feelings  of  Mark,  he  only  said) — "look  into  my 
face,  and  see  if  you  think  I  am  very  much  troubled ." 

And,  indeed,  the  pleasant  countenance  of  the  youth 
was  well  calculated  to  re-assure  his  friend. 

They  relapsed  into  silence  as  they  approached  the 
river.  Sutherland  was  absorbed  in  mournful  and 
bitter  reverie,  which  Lauderdale  forbore  to  break. 
They  crossed  the  Pearl  in  perfect  silence;  Lincoln 
glancing  from  the  beautiful  semi-transparent  river, 
with  its  surface  softly  flushed  with  rose  and  saffron 
clouds,  to  the  gorgeous  fields  of  cotton,  with  its 
myriads  beyond  myriads  of  golden  white  flowers. 
When  they  left  the  ferry-boat,  and  cantered  up  the 
gradual  ascent  of  the  road,  and  entered  upon  the 
domain  of  Silentshade,  once  more  Mark  put  out  his 
hand  and  seized  that  of  his  friend,  saying,  "  Here  at 
last  is  my  home,  where  I  may  welcome  any  friend  of 
mine  for  any  length  of  time ;  and  I  do  not  so  much 
invite  you,  as  I  entreat  you,  to  come  and  stay  with  me 
as  long  as  you  can  give  me  your  company,  if  it  be 
only,  dear  Lincoln,  to  prove  that  you  forgive  me  the 
offence  that  has  been  offered  to  you." 

"  Pray  say  no  more  about  it,  dear  Mark ;  how  are 


REACTION.  1-13 

you  responsible  fbr  an  affront  offered  yourself  as  well 
as  me  ?  As  for  staying  with  you,  I  will  do  so  with 
the  greatest  pleasure  as  long  as  I  may." 

And  once  more  Mark  Sutherland  fell  into  silence — 
into  bitter  and  sorrowful  meditation — into  deep  de- 
spondency. Since  India's  haughty  rejection  of  his 
hand,  his  life  had  grown  very  real  to  him.  Before 
that,  he  had  thought,  spoken,  and  acted,  as  one  under 
the  influence  of  some  inspiring  dream.  His  anticipa- 
tion and  appreciation  of  the  trials  that  awaited  him, 
differed  as  much  from  the  real  experience  of  them  as 
the  imagining  of  some  glorious  martyrdom  falls  short 
of  the  suffering  it. 

Young  enthusiast  that  he  was,  he  had  thought  only 
of  the  excitement  and  glory  of  the  heroism,  and  not 
of  the  fierce  torture  and  maddening  shame  of  the  sacri- 
fice. But  now  he  felt  his  position  in  all  its  dreadful 
reality.  And  it  was  well  that  he  should  so  feel  it.  It 
would  test  his  sincerity,  try  his  strength,  prove  his 
character.  And  now  he  rode  on  despairing,  almost 
heart-broken.  Yet  even  in  this  dark  and  clouded 
hour,  one  bright  star  of  hope,  and  promise,  and 
strength,  shone  on  him — a  mother's  love — a  mother's 
undying,  unchanging  love.  It  has  been  the  theme 
of  poets,  of  philosophers,  and  of  novelists,  since  hearts 
first  beat  with  affections,  and  tongues  first  gave  them 
utterance.  It  is  the  chosen  Scripture  illustration  to 
express  even  the  divine  love  of  God.  The  young 
man  rode  along,  deeply  musing  on  that  mother's  love 
— deeply  thirsting  for  it.  He  felt — man  as  he  was — 
that  it  would  be  a  sweet  and  grateful  relief  to  sit  by 
her  side,  to  drop  his  proud,  but  weary  head  upon  her 
shoulder,  and  for  a  little  while  to  give  vent  to  the 


144  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

flood  of  sorrow  now  stifled  iu  his  bosom — sure,  that 
if  others  thought  even  such  a  transient  yielding  to 
grief  unmanly,  she,  that  tender  and  affectionate  mo- 
ther, never  would  think  so.  And  so  he  mused  upon 
that  love — the  only  earthly  love  that  never  faileth — 
that  neither  misfortune  can  abate,  nor  crime  alienate. 
And,  unfortunate  and  suffering  in  the  cause  of  con- 
science as  he  was,  how  confidently  he  trusted  in  that 
mother's  sympathy  and  support!  Yea,  though  all 
other  affection  might  fail  him — though  friends  should 
forsake,  and  relatives  abandon  him,  and  even  his 
bride  discard  him — she,  his  mother,  would  be  true ! 

He  would  have  staked  his  salvation  upon  this,  us 
they  turned  into  the  avenue  of  limes  leading  up  to 
the  house,  and  saw  Mrs.  Sutherland  standing,  smiling, 
upon  the  piazzi.  But,  on  seeing  the  young  men 
approach,  in  one  instant,  the  lady's  countenance 
changed. 

She  had  had  her  lesson. 

Without  advancing  one  step  to  meet  and  welcome 
them,  she  allowed  them,  after  dismounting  from  their 
horses,  to  walk  quite  up  the  steps,  and  to  the  very 
spot  where  she  stood,  and  to  bow  and  speak,  before 
she  relaxed  one  muscle  of  her  countenance. 

She  replied  to  their  greeting  in  the  coldest  tones, 
inviting  them  to  enter  the  house. 

For  an  instant,  Mark  and  Lincoln  raised  their  eyes 
to  each  others  face,  and  their  glances  met.  A  pang 
of  mortification  and  disappointment  sped  through 
the  heart  of  Sutherland ;  and  Lauderdale,  apparently 
not  the  least  surprised  or  disconcerted,  took  his  reso- 
lution. 

Preceded  by  the  lady,  they  entered  the  house,  and 


REACTION.  145 

passed  into  a  front  parlour,  and  at  her  cold  invitation, 
which  seemed  more  like  a  strained  and  reluctant  per- 
mission granted,  they  took  seats.  Nothing  could  be 
more  deeply  disagreeable  and  embarrassing  than  the 
next  few  minutes.  Mrs.  Sutherland  took  her  sofa  in 
perfect  silence,  turned  her  face  towards  them  with  a 
look  of  cold  enquiry,  and  assumed  the  air  of  waiting 
to  hear  what  might  be  their  business  with  her — what 
they  might  have  to  communicate. 

This  was  very  perplexing.  They  did  not  come  on 
business — indeed,  they  were  made  to  feel  that  they 
had  no  business  there.  They  had  come  to  be  entertained, 
,and  comforted,  and  compensated,  after  the  Clement 
Sutherland  infliction.  They  had  nothing  particular 
to  answer  to  that  cold,  questioning  look,  except  Lau- 
derdale,  who,  cool  as  his  own  clime,  informed  Mrs. 
Sutherland  that  the  day  was  "  very  fine."  The  lady 
bowed  in  silent  assent. 

"  The  weather  for  many  days  past  has  been  very 
pleasant,"  continued  Lincoln,  without  the  least  em- 
barrassment. 

"  Yes — I  think  the  present  state  of  the  atmosphere 
highly  favourable  to  travelling"  said  the  lady. 

"  Your  climate  here,  madam,  is  not  near  so  sultry 
as  we  of  the  North  have  supposed  it  to  be,"  persevered 
Lincoln. 

"  Hem — yet  at  this  season  we  think  it  too  hot  to  be 
wholesome  to  you  of  the  North,"  said  the  lady,  with 
a  curling  lip. 

"Humph,"   thought   Lauderdale,   "your   courtesy, 
madam,  is  cold  enough  to  cool  the  hottest  hour  of  the 
hottest  day,  in  the  hottest  clime  under  the  sun."   But, 
turning  to  his  friend  Mark,  said — • 
9 


146     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

"Sutherland,  if  madame  will  excuse  us,  will  you  bo 
kind  enough  to  let  me  have  my  room  ?" 

And  Mark,  released  from  the  vice  into  which  he 
had  felt  himself  compressed  for  the  last  ten  minutes, 
very  gladly  sprang  up  to  accompany  him.  Lauder- 
dale  bowed  to  Mrs.  Sutherland,  with  some  pardonable 
formality  of  ceremony,  perhaps,  as  they  left  the 
parlour. 

When  they  had  reached  Lincoln's  chamber,  in  the 
second  story,  Mark  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands.  Lincoln  went  calmly 
to  work,  packing  up  his  wardrobe.  After  a  while, 
seeing  that  Sutherland  kept  his  attitude  of  humilia-^ 
tion,  he  went  up  to  him,  clapped  him  upon  the  shoulder 
cheerfully,  and  said — 

"Never  mind,  my  dear  Mark !  never  mind !  You 
take  this  to  heart  far  more  than  necessary.  Now,  I 
dare  say  that  one  of  your  hot-blooded,  fire-eating 
Mississippians,  treated  as  I  have  been,  would  call 
somebody  out,  and  do  something  desperate;  but  I 
really  do  not  feel  obliged  to  do  anything  of  the 
sort." 

"/  am  a  Mississippian — do  you  consider  me  a  very 
hot-blooded  person?  Am  I  not  rather  a  miserable 
poltroon,  to  see  my  friend  and  guest  outraged  and  in- 
sulted as  you  have  been  ?" 

"  Well,  that  is  as  fine  a  piece  of  self-accusation  as  I 
have  met  with  since  reading  the  formula  of  confession 
in  a  Roman  Catholic  missal.  You  could  not  help  it, 
Mark — you  could  not  affront  age  or  womanhood,  in 
my  defence  or  your  own,"  said  Lauderdale ;  and  he 
resumed  his  packing. 

In  a  very  few  minutes  it  was  completed,  and  then 


REACTION.  147 

he  came  to  announce  his  departure  to  Mark,  and  to 
take  leave  of  him. 

"I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you,  dear  Lincoln — 
nothing  whatever,  except  once  more  to  entreat  your 
pardon  for  what  has  passed,  and  to  wish  you  well 
with  all  my  heart." 

He  could  not  seek  to  change  his  guest's  purpose — 
could  not  ask  him  to  remain ;  how  could  he  do  so, 
indeed  ?  He  wished  to  order  the  carriage,  but-  Lin- 
coln positively  refused  to  avail  himself  of  it,  saying 
that  he  would  walk  to  the  next  village,  and  send  for 
his  trunks.  Mark  impressed  upon  him  the  use  of  his 
own  riding-horse,  and  Lincoln,  to  avoid  wounding 
him,  accepted  it. 

The  young  men  then  went  down  stairs;  Lincoln 
entered  the  parlour,  to  bid  adieu  to  his  hostess,  and 
Mark  left  the  house  to  order  the  horses,  for  he  was 
resolved  to  accompany  his  friend. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  in  their  saddles,  and  on 

the  road  leading  to  C ,  a  muddy,  miserable  town, 

about  five  miles  down  the  river. 

Here  the  friends  finally  separated,  but  not  until 
Lincoln's  trunks  had  been  sent  for,  and  had  arrived, 
and  Lincoln  himself  had  entered  the  stage  that  passed 
through  the  village  that  night,  and  was  to  convey  him 
to  the  steamboat  landing  on  the  Mississippi,  by  which 
route  he  preferred  to  return  north.  They  took  leave 
with  mutual  assurance  of  remembrances,  and  promises 
of  frequent  correspondence. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  Mark  Sutherland  re- 
turned to  his  home,  and  he  immediately  went  to  his 
room. 


148  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL  RIVER. 

He  arose  the  next  morning,  with  the  full  determi- 
nation to  set  immediately  to  work. 

"  I  must  plunge  myself  into  action,  lest  I  wither  by 
despair,"  might  have  been  his  thought.  His  mother 
received  him  at  the  breakfast-table  with  coldness.  He 
told  her  respectfully  what  he  intended  to  do  during 
the  day.  She  curled  her  lip,  and  begged  him  to  pro- 
ceed, without  remorse  or  fear,  to  unroof  the  house 
that  sheltered  her  head — and  she  trusted  Heaven 
would  give  her  strength  to  bear  even  that. 

After  breakfast,  he  set  out,  and  rode  to  Jackson,  to 
engage  the  services  of  a  lawyer  to  assist  him  in 
making  out  the  deeds,  and  taking  the  legal  measures 
required  in  emancipating  his  people.  As  the  distance 
to  the  city  was  a  full  day's  journey,  and  he  had  busi- 
ness enough  to  occupy  the  whole  of  the  second  day, 
he  did  not  reach  home  until  the  evening  of  the  third 
day. 

He  came,  accompanied  by  a  lawyer.  They  were 
both  tired  and  hungry,  but  found  no  supper  prepared, 
and  no  one  to  make  them  welcome.  Mr.  Sutherland 
went  out,  and  enquired  for  his  mother,  and  was  told 
that  the  lady  desired  to  be  excused  from  receiving  an 
official,  that  had  come  to  make  her  homeless.  Mark 
stifled  a  sigh ;  he  ordered  refreshments  for  his  guest, 
and  soon  after  showed  him  to  his  sleeping  chamber. 

The  next  day  was  a  very  busy,  yet  a  very  trying 
one.  On  coming  down  into  the  breakfast-room,  Mark 
Sutherland  heard  with  poignant  sorrow  that  his  mo- 
ther had  departed  from  the  house,  carrying  with  her 
many  of  her  personal  effects,  as  if  for  a  long  or  per- 
manent absence,  and  had  gone  to  take  up  her  abode 
in  Cashmere.  In  consternation  at  this  act,  Mark 


REACTION.  149 

Sutherland  rushed  out  to  institute  further  enquiries, 
and  found  in  front  of  the  house  a  baggage- waggon, 
with  Billy  Boiling  standing  up  in  the  midst,  receiving 
and  packing  away  trunks,  boxes,  and  packages,  that 
were  lifted  to  him  by  two  negro  men  in  attendance. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  what  is  the  meaning  of 
all  this,  uncle  ?"  asked  Mark  with  trepidation. 

Mr.  Boiling  stood  up,  took  his  handkerchief  leisurely 
from  his  pocket,  wiped  his  flushed,  perspiring  face, 
replaced  it,  and  answered — 

"  It  means,  sir,  that  you  have  turned  my  sister  out 
of  doors ;  that  is  all  it  means." 

"  But,  uncle,  my  dear  mother  has  perfect" 

"  D n  it,  sir,  don't  call  my  sister  mother,  or  me 

uncle !  You  are  no  son  or  nephew  of  ours ;  we  wash 
our  hands  of  you !  We  cast  you  off  I  We'll  have 
nothing  to  do  with  you  I" 

"Why,  Mr.  Boiling,  what  is  the" 

"  Confound  it,  sir,  don't  talk  to  me ;  you  are  a  vil- 
lain, sir !  James,  drive  on  1"  And  clapping  his  hat 
upon  his  head,  Mr.  Boiling  sat  down  and  settled  the 
last  box  in  its  place,  and  the  waggon  was  driven  off. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  state  of  mind  in 
which  Mark  Sutherland  found  himself.  The  distract- 
ing thoughts  and  emotions  that  whirled  through  his 
brain  and  heart,  excited  him  almost  to  frenzy.  He 
immediately  wrote  an  imploring,  passionate  note  to 
his  mother,  briefly  alluding  to  the  independence  he 
intended  to  secure  to  her,  and  supplicating  her  to  re- 
turn to  her  6"wn  home.  He  sent  it  off;  and,  in  a  few 
minutes,  unsatisfied  with  that  note,  he  wrote  another, 
more  affectionate,  more  ardent,  more  supplicating, 
and  despatched  that  also. 


150     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

And  then,  half-maddened  as  he  was,  he  turned  and 
set  himself  to  his  business.  He  caused  all  the  ser- 
vants to  be  assembled  on  the  lawn.  He  went  out  to 
them,  and  announced  his  intention  of  setting  free,  and 
sending  all  who  were  willing  to  go,  to  Liberia.  lie 
explained  to  them  the  good  that  must  accrue  to  the 
younger,  and  more  intelligent  and  industrious  among 
them,  who  might  emigrate  and  settle  in  the  last-named 
place.  This  news  did  not  take  the  negroes  the  least 
by  surprise.  They  had  heard  whisperings  of  the 
cause  that  had  broken  off  their  master's  marriage,  and 
set  all  his  family  and  friends  at  feud  with  him.  After 
closing  his  little  speech  to  the  assembled  slaves,  he 
singled  out  some  dozen  among  them — heads  of  cabin 
families — old  and  steady  men ;  and  he  took  them  with 
him  into  his  library,  where  he  explained  to  them,  at 
greater  length,  the  advantages  of  the  plan  of  emigra- 
tion to  Liberia.  And  then  he  dismissed  them,  to  con- 
verse with  each  other,  to  reflect,  and  decide  what  they 
wished  to  do. 

Next,  he  left  his  study  to  go  and  enquire  if  the 
messenger  sent  to  his  mother  had  returned.  He  found 
the  man  watching  for  him  in  the  hall.  He  held  a  let- 
ter in  his  hand.  Mr.  Sutherland  eagerly  snatched  it. 
It  contained  a  few  lines,  formally  advising  him.  that 
no  further  communication  would  be  received  from 
him,  which  was  not  preceded  by  a  full  and  complete 
renunciation  of  his  obnoxious  plans.  While  his  gaze 
was  painfully  riveted  upon  this  note,  the  second  mes- 
senger arrived,  bringing  a  letter  in  his  hand.  He 
seized  it.  It  was  his  own,  returned  unopened. 

"  Did  you  see  Mrs.  Sutherland,  Flamingo  ?" 

"Yes,  sir/1 


REACTION.  151 

"  What  did  she  say  ?" 

"  I  gave  her  the  letter,  sir ;  she  took  it,  and  read 
the  direction,  and  handed  it  back  to  me,  and  told  me 
to  take  it  back  to  him  who  sent  it,  and  not  to  bring 
her  another  one." 

"That  will  do — you  may  go,"  said  Mark,  and  a 
spasm  of  pain  twitched  his  countenance,  as  he  tore  up 
the  letter,  and  threw  the  fragments  away. 

"  That  is  not  all,  sir — there  is  something  else." 

"  Well,  what  new  stab  ?"  he  thought ;  but  he  said — 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

Flamingo  took  from  under  his  arm  a  small  packet, 
wrapped  in  tissue  paper,  and  handed  it  to  him. 

"  What  is  this  ?     Where  did  you  get  this  ?" 

"  Miss  Eosalie  gave  it  to  me  to  bring  to  you." 

"You  may  go  now,"  said  Mr.  Sutherland,  as  he 
opened  a  door,  and  passed  into  the  parlour,  and  sat 
down  to  look  at  the  packet.  It  was  a  little  morocco 
case,  containing  a  lady's  small  pocket  Bible,  bound  in 
white  velvet  and  silver,  with  silver  clasps.  An  ele- 
gant little  bijou  it  was.  Upon  the  fly-leaf  was  written, 
"  Rosalie  Vivian,  from  her  affectionate  and  liappy  mother" 
And  this  writing  bore  a  date  of  several  years  before. 

On  the  opposite  page  was  inscribed,  "Mark  Suther- 
land, with  the  deep  respect  of  Rosalie  Vivian"  And  this 
inscription  bore  the  date  of  to-day.  A  leaf  was  folded 
down,  and  when  he  opened  it  at  the  27th  Psalm,  he 
saw  marked  this  passage :  "  When  my  father  and  my 
mother  forsake  me,  then  will  the  Lord  take  me  up." 
There  was  still  another  page  turned  down,  and  another 
pencil  stroke,  enclosing  these  words,  (Mark  x.  29,) 
''And  Jesus  answered,  and  said,  Verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  there  is  no  man  hath  left  home,  or  brethren,  or 


1^2  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

sisters,  or  father,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or  children,  or 
lands,  for  my  sake  and  the  gospel's,  but  ho  shall  re- 
ceive an  hundred-fold  now  in  this  time,  houses,  and 
brethren,  and  sisters,  and  mothers,  and  children,  and 
lands,  with  persecutions ;  and  in  the  world  to  come, 
eternal  life." 

He  turned  over  the  little  book  with  a  fond  look  and 
smile — partly  given  to  the  elegant  little  bijou  itself, 
such  an  inappropriate  sort  of  copy  to  be  sent  to  a 
man — and  partly  to  the  fair,  gentle  girl,  its  donor. 
The  little  incident  came  to  him  like  a  soft,  encour- 
aging pressure  of  the  hand,  or  a  kind  word  at  his 
greatest  need — like  a  loving  benediction.  And  for 
those  blessed  words  that  were  marked,  they  were 
dropped  into  his  broken  and  tearful  heart,  like  good 
seeds  into  the  ploughed  and  watered  earth,  to  bring 
forth  fruit  in  due  season. 

He  replaced  the  little  book  in  its  case,  wrapped  it 
again  in  its  tissue  paper,  and,  for  the  present,  lodged 
it  within  the  ample  breast  of  his  coat.  He  had  never 
in  his  life  heard  Rosalie  give  expression  to  one  fine 
heroic  sentiment,  such  as  fell  plenteously  from  the 
lips  of  India,  as  the  pearls  and  diamonds  from  the 
fairy  favoured  maiden  of  the  child's  story.  But  now 
he  could  not  suppress  the  painful  regret  that  the  bril- 
liant and  enthusiastic  India  had  not  possessed  more 
of  the  tenderness,  sympathy,  and  real  independence, 
found  in  the  fragile,  retired  Rosalie. 

Ifc  were  tedious,  as  needless,  to  follow  Mr.  Suther- 
land through  all  the  multifarious  and  harassing  de- 
tails of  business  that  filled  up  the  next  few  weeks. 
His  path  was  full  of  difficulties.  Not  only  social  aud 
domestic  discouragements,  and  legal  obstacles  and 


REACTION.  153 

delays,  but  difficulties  that  arose  on  the  part  of  the 
negroes  themselves.  A  few  of  them  did  not  want  the 
old  state  of  things,  with  its  familiar  associations,  and 
close  attachments,  broken  up.  Some  of  them,  who 
were  anxious  to  be  free,  had  wives  and  children,  or 
husbands,  upon  some  neighbouring  plantation,  and  so 
were  held  bound  by  their  affections.  Nay,  indeed, 
often  a  mere  fraternal  love  was  sufficient  to  produce 
this  effect.  This  class  of  negroes,  proved  to  be  a  great 
trial  and  vexation  to  Mark,  not  only  by  throwing 
nearly  insurmountable  obstacles  in  the  way  of  their 
own  emancipation,  but  also  affording  his  opponents 
much  material  for  laughter.  It  was  in  vain  their 
benefactor  told  these  men,  that,  after  a  few  years  of 
labour  and  saving,  they  would  be  able  to  purchase 
their  wives  or  children.  They  shook  their  heads — 
they  feared — their  spirits  were  too  faint.  As  far  as 
his  means  would  go,  Mr.  Sutherland  purchased  these 
wives  or  children,  and  sent  them  off  with  their  hus- 
bands and  fathers. 

At  length,  it  was  all  over — the  slaves  were  emanci- 
pated and  gone,  each  with  a  sum  of  money  to  pay 
their  transport,  and  provide  their  immediate  necessi- 
ties, until  they  should  find  work.  Many  misgivings 
troubled  the  head  of  Mr.  Sutherland,  as  to  whether 
they  would  do  well  with  the  liberty,  so  unaccustomed, 
and  so  newly  given ;  but  no  doubts  as  to  the  right- 
eousness of  his  own  act  ever  crossed  his  mind.  And 
so  he  committed  the  result  to  Providence. 

He  had  taken  care  to  secure  the  homestead  to  his 
mother.  For  her  benefit,  he  had  also  placed  at  in- 
terest thirty  thousand  dollars,  which,  at  six  per  cent., 
would  yield  her  an  income  of  eighteen  hundred. 


154  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL    KIVER. 

Having  thus  wound  up  his  business,  he  went  over 
to  Cashmere  to  seek  an  interview — a.  farewell  interview 
— with  his  mother  and  relatives.  He  learned  that 
they  had,  a  few  days  before,  left  Cashmere  for  the 
North. 

The  next  morning,  Mark  Sutherland,  with  only 
ninety  dollars  in  his  pocket-book,  with  his  wardrobe 
and  his  law  books,  departed  from  his  childhood's 
home. 

It  may  be  as  well  to  state  here,  that  when  the 
Sutherlands  returned,  in  the  autumn,  Mrs.  Suther- 
land, with  some  ten  or  twelve  slaves,  her  own  personal 
property,  took  up  her  abode  at  Silentshades,  availed 
herself  of  the  income  her  son  had  secured  to  her,  and 
made  herself  comfortable. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FAREWELL. 

"  Fair  wert  thou  in  the  dreams 

Of  early  life,  thou  land  of  glorious  flowers, 
And  summer  winds,  and  low-toned  silvery  streams, 
Dim  with  the  shadow  of  thy  laurel  bowers. 

"Fair  wert  thou,  with  the  light 

On  thy  blue  hills  and  sleepy  waters  cast 
From  purple  skies,  soft  deepening  into  night, 
Yet  slow  as  if  each  moment  was  their  last 
Of  glory  waning  fast !" — Henans. 

THE  sun  was  rising  in  cloudless  splendour,  on  the 
morning  on  which  Mark  Sutherland  paused  upon  an 


FAREWELL.  155 

eminence,  to  throw  a  farewell  glance  over  the  beau- 
tiful scenes  of  his  childhood  and  youth — the  fair  valley 
of  the  Pearl.  East  lay  the  dark  boundary  of  the  pine 
forest,  pierced  by  the  golden,  arrow-like  rays  of  the 
level  sun,  or  casting  long,  spear-like  shadows  athwart 
the  green  alluvion — south  and  west,  belts  of  forest 
alternated  with  gaudy  cotton-fields,  and  rolling  green 
hills,  interspersed  with  graceful  groves,  until  in  softly- 
blended  hues  they  met  the  distant  horizon.  From 
this  beautifully- variegated  circumference,  his  eye  re- 
turned to  gaze  upon  the  centre  of  the  scene — the 
Penrl — the  lovely  river  which  took  its  name  from  the 
semi-transparent  hues  of  clouded  saffron,  rose,  and 
azure,  that  seemed  not  only  caught  from  the  glorious 
sky  above,  and  the  gorgeous  hills,  and  fields,  and 
grove,  around,  but  flashed  up  from  the  deep  channel 
of  the  stream,  as  if  its  clear  waters  flowed  through  u 
bed  of  opal. 

At  some  distance  below  him,  encircled  by  a  bend 
of  the  river,  lay — like  some  rich  mosaic  on  the  bosom 
of  the  vale — "  Cashmere,"  the  almost  Oriental  scene 
of  his  youthful  love-dream.  There  was  the  pebbly 
beach,  with,  its  miniature  piers  and  fairy  boats — the 
lawn,  with  its  flowering  and  fragrant  groves,  its  crystal 
founts,  its  shaded  walks  and  vine-clad  arbours ;  and, 
nearer  the  house,  the  rose  terrace,  with  its  millions  of 
odoriferous  budding  and  blooming  roses,  surrounding 
as  within  a  crimson  glow,  that  white  villa  and  its 
colonnade  of  light  Ionic  shafts.  At  this  distance,  he 
could  see  distinctly  the  bay  window,  with  its  purple 
curtains,  of  India's  boudoir;  and,  at  its  sight,  the 
image  of  the  beautiful  India  arose  before  him.  Again 
he  saw  her  in  that  poetic  harmony  of  form  rind  colour- 


156  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

ing  that  had  so  ravished  his  artist  soul — the  slender, 
yet  well-rounded  figure — the  \\arrn,  bright  counte- 
nance, with  its  amber-hued  ringlets,  and  clear  olive 
complexion  deepening  into  crimson  upon  cheeks  and 
lips — a  beauty  in  which  there  was  no  strong  contrast, 
but  all  rich  harmony — a  form  that  he  once  had  fondly 
thought  clothed  a  soul  as  harmonious  as  beautiful. 
They  were  lost !  all  lost — home,  and  bride,  and  lovely 
dreams  of  youth  1  Do  not  despise  him,  or  blame  him, 
when  I  tell  you,  in  the  touching  words  of  Scripture, 
"that  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  wept."  He  was  but 
twenty-one,  and  this  was  the  first  despairing  passionate 
sorrow  of  his  youth. 

It  is  very  easy  to  talk  and  write  of  the  "  rewards 
of  virtue,"  the  comfort  of  a  good  conscience,  the  de- 
lights of  duty.  Alas !  I  am  afraid  the  delights  of  duty 
are  seldom  believed  in,  and  seldomer  experienced. 
Be  sure,  when  a  great  sacrifice  of  interest,  of  affection, 
of  hope,  is  made,  and  a  great  sorrow  is  felt — nothing 
— nothing  but  a  loving,  Christian  faith -can  console. 

And  Mark  Sutherland  was  not  a  Christian  man. 

Here,  then,  even  a  philanthropist  might  reasonably 
inquire  why  all  this  was  done  ?  Why  a  youth,  born 
and  brought  up  a  slaveholder,  should,  against  precon- 
ceived ideas,  against  prudence,  against  self-interest, 
against  hope,  with  doubtful  good  even  to  the  benefi- 
ciaries of  his  self-detotion,  beggar  himself  for  the 
sake  of  their  emancipation?  Why  he,  being  no 
Christian,  should  make  such  an  immense  sacrifice  of 
wealth,  position,  affection,  hope — in  short,  of  all  tem- 
poral and  earthly  interests  ? 

We  are  all  able  to  answer,  that,  had  a  scientific 
]  phrenologist  examined  the  moral  organs  of  Mark 


FAREWELL.  157 

Sutherland's  head,  he  would  have  found  his  answer 
in  the  predominant  CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.  It  was,  there- 
fore, only  a  severe  sense  of  justice  that  laid  its  iron 
hand  upon  him,  obliging  him  to  do  as  he  had  done — 
a  single  sense  of  justice,  such  as  might  have  influenced 
the  actions  of  a  Pagan  or  an  Atheist — a  hard,  stern 
sense  of  justice,  without  faith,  hope,  or  love — an  un- 
compromising sense  of  justice,  without  self-flattery, 
promise,  or  comfort. 

He  is  not  as  yet  a  Christian,  but  he  may  become 
one,  he  must  become  one,  for  no  great  sacrifice  was 
ever  made  to  duty,  without  Christ  claiming  that  re- 
deemed soul  as  his  own. 

After  all,  perhaps,  there  is  but  one  sin  and  sorrow 
in  the  world — IDOLATRY — arid  all  forms  of  evil  are 
compromised  within  it.  It  includes  all  shades  of  sin, 
from  the  lightest  error  that  clouds  the  conscience,  to 
the  darkest  crime  that  brings  endless  night  upon  the 
soul ;  and  all  degrees  of  suffering,  from  the  discontent 
that  disturbs  the  passing  hour,  to  the  anguish  and 
despair  that  overwhelms  and  swallows  up  all  the 
hopes  of  life.  "We  are  all  idolaters.  Some  god-pas- 
sion of  the  heart  is  ever  the  deity  we  worship.  Am- 
bition, avarice,  love — "  the  world,  the  flesh,  or  the 
devil,"  in  some  form,  is  always  the  idol.  Perhaps, 
love;  the  first,  the  most  disinterested,  self-devoted, 
of  all  the  forms  of  idolatry,  comes  nearest  to  the  true 
worship.  But  it  is  not  the  true  worship — by  all  the 
anguish  that  it  brings,  it  is  not  the  true  worship. 

Oh !  if  but  for  a  moment  we  could  raise  our  souls 
to  God,  in  the  self-surrender  wherewith,  in  passionate 
devotion,  we  throw  our  hearts  beneath  the  feet  of 
sonic  \\vuk  an  1  perishable  form  of  clay — that  were 


158  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

conversion — that  were  regeneration — that  were  a 
great  deliverance — that  were  eternal  life,  and  full 
of  joy! 

And  are  there  not  moments  when  we  catch  a  glimpse 
of  such  a  possibility?  when  brain  and  heart  stand  still, 
thoughtless,  breathless  ?  when  life  itself  pauses  in  the 
transient  revelation  of  such  unsufferable  light  ?  And 
we  know  that  some  have  entered  in  and  lived  this 
light  all  the  days  of  their  lives.  To  many  of  us, 
alas !  and  in  most  of  our  moods,  they  seem  to  live 
in  an  unknown  world — to  speak  in  an  unknown 
tongue. 

Who  of  us  has  not  occasionally  experienced  these 
thoughts  and  emotions,  in  reading  and  meditating  on 
the  lives  and  characters  of  Christians  of  any  name? — it 
matters  little  what;  for  there  is  a  unity  of  spirit  in 
all  regenerated  children  of  God,  of  every  nation,  rank, 
or  sect.  Fenelon  and  George  Whitefield — the  French- 
man and  the  Briton — the  mitred  archbishop  and  the 
poor  field  preacher — the  Roman  Catholic  and  the 
Methodist,  dwelt  in  the  same  light,  spoke  the  same 
language,  because  both  were  one  in  spirit.  What  if 
through  the  medium,  of  each  separate  brain,  the  the- 
ology look  different '/  The  heart  is  greater  than  the 
brain;  or,  in  other  words,  the  affections  arc  higher 
than  the  intellect.  "  Out  of  the  heart  are  the  issues 
of  life;"  and  "this  is  life  eternal,  that  we  should  know 
the  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  he  hath  sent." 
With  their  hearts,  their  affections,  they  discerned 
]Iirn.  And  in  love  they  were  one  with  each  other, 
and  one  with  Christ  and  God.  And  who,  in  com- 
muning with  their  fervent  souls — in  meditating  on 
their  perfect  faith  and  love — perfect  devotion  to  God, 


FAREWELL.  159 

has  not  been  startled  by  some  such  light  as  this  let 
in  upon  the  mind? — "  Why,  if  this  unfailing  love — this 
unwavering  faith — this  unreserved  devotion — this  total 
self- surrender — be  the  worship  we  owe  to  our  Creator, 
then  have  we  been  idolaters ;  for  all  this  instinct  and 
power,  and  tiecessity  of  loving,  sacrificing,  and  wor- 
shipping has  been  ours,  and  has  been  lavished,  wasted, 
only  on  the  creature." 

Akin  to  this  was  the  feeling  that  impelled  the  dying 
Wolsey  to  exclaim,  "  Had  I  but  served  God  as  dili- 
gently as  I  have  served  the  king,  He  would  not  have 
given  me  over  in  my  grey  hairs." 

And  as  Mark  Sutherland  stood  gazing  in  bitter- 
ness of  spirit  upon  the  beautiful  scene  of  his  love 
and  joy,  the  maddening  scene  of  his  trial  and  suf- 
fering, these  words  escaped  from  his  bursting  heart : 
"  Oh,  God  !  if  I  had  worshipped  thee  as  I  worshipped 
her,  Thy  beautiful  work,  I  had  not  been  now  alone — 
alone  in  my  sorrow." 

It  was  the  sincere,  earnest  cry  of  a  stricken,  penitent, 
suffering  heart. 

It  was  answered  then  and  there.  Around  him  fell 
an  influence  sober  and  more  genial  than  sunshine — 
more  refreshing  than  dew — a  spiritual  influence,  warm- 
ing, renewing,  supporting — a  Divine  influence,  kind- 
ling and  strengthening  the  soul  within  him. 

The  Comforter  had  come,  and  was  acknowledged. 
With  uncovered  head,  and  uplifted  heart,  then  and 
there  Mark  Sutherland  consecrated  his  life  to  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  and  His  work  on  earth. 

From  the  beautiful  vale  he  turned,  and,  inspired 
by  new  strength  and  courage,  put  spurs  to  his  horse, 
and  galloped  rapidly  on  towards  the  road  leading  to 


160     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

tbe  town  of  C ,  where,  six  weeks  since,  he  had 

parted  with  Lauderdale.     He  reached  C in  time 

for  an  early  breakfast.  Here — not  wishing  to  leave 
his  family  in  ignorance  of  his  fate,  and  by  his  depar- 
ture thus  to  cut  down  the  bridge  of  communication 
between  them  and  himself — he  addressed  a  letter  to 
his  bachelor  uncle,  Paul  Sutherland,  informing  him 
that  his  destination  was  some  north-western  town, 
whence,  as  soon  as  he  should  become  settled,  he  should 
write.  He  gave  this  letter  in  charge  of  the  landlord, 
to  be  forwarded  as  soon  as  his  uncle  should  return 
from  the  North.  He  then  mounted  his  horse,  and 
took  the  road  to  Natchez,  whence  he  intended  to  em- 
bark in  a  steamboat  up  the  Mississippi.  He  reached 
the  city  by  nightfall,  and  found  his  baggage,  sent  by 
the  stage-coach,  had  arrived  in  safety.  He  took  the 
boat  that  passed  that  night ;  and  the  next  morning 
he  found  himself  many  miles  on  his  way  up  the  river. 

"  The  world  was  all  before  him,  where  to  choose 
His  place  of  rest,  and  Providence  his  guide." 

And  to  a  young,  adventurous,  hopeful  spirit,  this 
uncertainty,  joined  to  liberty,  was  not  without  its  pe- 
culiar charm.  During  the  greater  part  of  the  day  he 
remained  on  deck,  with  a  spy-glass  in  his  hand,  ex- 
amining the  face  of  the  country  on  either  side  of  the 
river.  The  lawns  and  villages  on  the  Lower  Missis- 
sippi did  not  attract  him  in  the  least  degree.  Their 
situations  were  low — their  beach  sluggishly  washed 
by  the  thick  and  murky  water — their  thoroughfare 
wet  and  muddy — their  general  aspect  unwholesome 
to  the  last  degree. 

But,  farther  up  the  river,  and  above  the  mouth  of  the 


FAREWELL.  161 

Ohio,  the  country  and  the  colour  of  the  water  began 
to  change.  High  bluffs,  gray  old  rocks,  and  gigantic 
woods,  diversified  the  shores — crystal  creeks  and  ver- 
dant islets  varied  the  river.  He  approached  the  fine 
"  Eock  Kiver  country." 

Beautiful  as  a  poetic  vision  of  Elysium,  had  seemed 
the  luxurious  valley  of  the  Pearl. 

But  this  gigantic  scene — Eock  Eiver,  Eock  Island, 
with  the  opposite  shores  of  the  Mississippi,  widening 
here  into  a  lake-like  expanse — had  a  breadth  of  gran- 
deur, a  Titanic  vigour  and  vitality  of  beauty,  the 
most  consonant,  the  most  imposing  and  encouraging, 
to  his  own  young  energetic  spirit. 

The  boat  stopped  opposite  the  village  of  S ,  just 

as  the  morning  mist  was  rolling  away  before  the  sun, 
and  revealing  the  scene  in  all  its  picturesque  beauty, 
and  fresh  life.  The  young  city  was  but  two  years  old 
— yet,  infant  of  the  Titaness  West,  it  was  growing 
and  thriving  most  vigorously.  Here,  then,  Mark 
Sutherland  determined  to  take  up  his  abode — here  to 
live  and  labour.  He  ordered  his  baggage  into  the 
boat,  and  stepped  in  after  it,  and  was  swiftly  rowed  to 
the  shore.  Here,  too,  in  order  to  begin  aright  and 
betimes,  he  shouldered  his  own  trunk,  while  a  porter 
followed  with  his  box  of  books,  and  wended  his  way 
to  the  hotel  on  the  hill. 
10 


162          INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE     FATAL     MARRIAGE. 

"  Isabella. — 'Tis  a  babbling  world 

"Mr.  Gravet. — Oh!  'tis  an  atrociout  world  ! 

(It  will  be  burnt  up  one  day — that's  a  comfort." — London  Airurance. 

EIGHTEEN  months  have  passed  since  Mark  Suther- 
land left  his  home.  Eighteen  months  of  persevering 
study,  of  unsuccessful  effort,  and  of  varied  wanderings, 
find  him,  at  the  close,  in  Cincinnati,  quite  penniless, 
and  nearly  hopeless.  His  efforts  to  find  employment 
here  are  unavailing.  He  has  not  even  the  means  to 
pay  his  board — a  situation  in  which  many  a  worthy 
and  promising  young  man  has  found  himself,  who  has 
afterwards  nevertheless  risen  to  fame  or  fortune. 
Embarrassing  and  discouraging  enough  is  the  position 
while  occupied,  however  piquant  to  look  back  upon. 

In  a  listless  and  disappointed  mood,  Mark  Sutherland 
entered  the  reading-room  of  the  hotel,  and,  taking  up 
the  daily  papers,  began  to  look  over  their  columns,  to 
see  if  any  new  want  of  a  clerk  or  an  agent  had  been 
advertised,  which  might  hold  out  the  hope  of  employ- 
ment to  him.  At  last,  in  the  Intelligencer,  his  eye 
lighted  upon  an  advertisement  for  a  classical  and 
mathematical  teacher.  The  candidate  was  required 
to  produce  the  highest  testimonials  of  character  and 
competency,  and  requested  to  apply  through  the  office 
of  that  paper.  Mr.  Sutherland's  classical  and  mathe- 
matical attainments  were  far  above  mediocrity,  and 


THE    FATAL    MARRIAGE.  163 

the  references  he  could  give  were  unexceptionable. 
He  felt  therefore  certain  of  being  able  to  offer  more 
than  an  equivalent  for  the  salary.  He  saw,  too,  that 
the  office  of  a  teacher,  by  leaving  him  many  hours  of 
the  day,  and  the  whole  of  Saturdays  and  holidays  free, 
would  afford  him  ample  leisure  for  the  pursuit  of  his 
legal  studies. 

He  called  for  writing  materials,  and  immediately 
wrote  and  mailed  a  letter  of  application.  He  was 
scarcely  anxious  about  the  result — only  a  little  inter- 
ested to  know  whether  he  should  get  the  situation, 
and  what  sort  of  a  one  it  would  be,  when  it  was  got ; 
whether  it  would  be  the  place  of  assistant  in  a  public 
academy,  or  that  of  tutor  in  a  private  family ;  also, 
whether  his  temporary  home  should  be  in  the  cold 
North  or  the  sunny  South,  the  populous  East  or  the 
sparsely-settled  West,  or  in  the  indefinite  country 
between  them ;  lastly,  with  what  sort  of  people  he 
should  find  himself. 

But,  upon  the  whole,  he  scarcely  hoped  to  get  a 
response  to  his  application,  as  the  paper  containing 
the  advertisement  was  several  days  old  when  he  first 
saw  it.  Therefore,  when  days  passed  into  weeks,  and 
weeks  became  a  month,  he  gave  up  all  hopes  of  ob- 
taining an  answer,  without  much  disappointment. 

At  length — as  generally  happens  after  expectation 
sickens  and  dies,  and  is  buried — the  unlooked-for 
letter  arrived.  It  contained  a  proposition  from  Colo- 
nel Ashley,  of  Virginia,  to  engage  Mr.  Sutherland  as 
private  tutor,  to  prepare  his  two  younger  sons  for  the 
university,  offering,  in  remuneration,  a  very  liberal 
salary,  and  requesting,  in  the  event  of  Mr.  Sutherland's 


164  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

acceptance,  that  he  would  reply  promptly,  and  follow 
his  own  letter  in  person  as  soon  as  possible. 

Mark  sat  down  and  wrote  at  once,  closing  the  con- 
tract, and  promising  to  be  at  Ashley  by  the  first  of 
March. 

It  was  now  near  the  last  of  February.  He  sold  his 
horse,  paid  his  bill  at  the  hotel,  and  having  money 
enough  remaining  to  take  him  to  Virginia,  left  the 
same  afternoon  by  the  steamboat  up  the  river,  and 
met  the  stage  at  Wheeling.  After  two  or  three  days' 
travelling  upon  the  turnpike  road,  through  the  most 
sublime  and  beautiful  mountain  and  valley  scenery  in 
the  world,  he  arrived,  late  one  evening,  at  the  little 
hamlet  of  Ashley,  situated  in  a  wild  and  picturesque 
gap  of  the  Blue  Ridge. 

Here,  at  the  little  inn,  he  ordered  supper,  and  pur- 
posed to  spend  the  night.  But  he  had  scarcely  en- 
tered the  little  bed-room  allotted  to  him,  with  the  in- 
tention of  refreshing  himself  with  ablutions  and  a 
change  of  dress,  before  the  head  of  the  host  was  put 
through  the  door,  and  the  information  given  that 
Colonel  Ashley's  carriage  had  come  to  meet  Mr. 
Sutherland,  and  was  waiting  below.  He  finished  his 
toilet,  however,  before  leaving  his  room. 

He  found  the  parlour  occupied  by  two  boys,  of 
about  thirteen  and  fifteen  years  of  age,  disputing  the 
possession  of  a  pistol,  which,  in  the  wrestle  that  en- 
sued, went  off — harmlessly.  And  before  Mark  could 
reprove  them  for  their  imprudence,  they  came  to  meet 
him.  The  elder  lad,  cap  in  hand,  inquired,  respect- 
fully— 

"Are  you  Mr.  Sutherland,  sir?" 

"  Yes,  my  son ;  have  you  business  with  me  ?" 


THE   FATAL   MARRIAGE.  163 

"  Father  has  sent  the  carriage  for  you,  sir — that  is 
all.  My  name  is  Henry — he's  Eichard.  St.  Gerald, 
you  know,  is  in  Washington.  He  is  in  Congress,  you 
know,  and  has  made  a  great  speech — father  says,  one 
of  the  greatest  speeches  that  has  been  made  since" — 

"  Ohj  slio !  He's  a  great  deal  older  than  we  are, 
Mr.  Sutherland ;  and  he's  only  our  half-brother  be- 
sides. You  don't  know  every  thing,"  said  the  younger 
boy  Richard,  addressing  the  last  phrase,  accompanied 
by  a  punch  in  the  side,  to  his  brother. 

"  I  am  happy  to  meet  you,  Henry — how  do  you  do, 
Richard  ?"  said  Mr.  Sutherland,  giving  a  hand  to 
each  of  the  boys. 

"And  so,"  he  added,  smiling  to  himself,  and  at 
them,  "this  new  star  of  the  Capitol — this  eloquent 
and  admired  St.  Gerald  Ashley — is  a  relative  of 
yours?" 

"  Our  brother,"  said  Henry. 

"  Our  AaZ/'-brother,"  amended  Richard,  favouring 
his  senior  with  another  malicious  punch  in  the  ribs. 

Hereupon  another  scuffle  ensued,  which  Mr.  Suther- 
land ended,  by  saying — 

"  Come — shall  we  go  on  to  Ashley  Hall,  or  will  you 
take  supper  first,  here,  with  me?" 

"  Take  supper  first  here,  with  you,"  assented  the 
boys,  who  could  have  been  tempted  by  nothing  but 
the  novelty  to  forego  their  father's  sumptuous  supper- 
table  for  this  poor  tavern  meal. 

"  It  was  kind  to  come  and  meet  me.  But  how  did 
you  guess  that  I  should  arrive  this  evening  ?" 

"  Oh,  we  did  not  guess.  Father  thought  it  about 
time  you  should  come,  and  he  sent  the  carriage,  and 
intended  to  send  it  every  stage-day  until  you  did  come, 


166  INDIA.      THE   PEAKL   OF   PEAKL   KIVEK. 

or  write,  or  something.  Father  would  have  come 
himself,  only  he  staid  home  to  read  St.  Gerald's  great 
speech." 

"St.  Gerald"  was  evidently  the  hero  of  Henry's 
worship. 

While  they  supped,  their  horses  were  fed  and 
watered.  And,  half  an  hour  afterwards,  Mr.  Suther- 
land and  his  pupils  entered  the  carriage,  and  were 
driven  to  Ashley  Hall.  It  was  quite  dark  when  the 
carriage  drew  up  before  the  door  of  a  large,  rumbling 
old  building  of  red  sandstone,  scarcely  to  be  distin- 
guished from  the  irregular  masses  of  rock  rising  be- 
hind and  around  it.  A  bright  light  illumined  the 
hall,  where  the  travellers  were  received  by  a  negro 
man  in  waiting,  who  would  have  conducted  them  into 
a  drawing-room  on  the  left,  but  that  Henry  and 
Eichard,  breaking  violently  forward,  threw  open  the 
door  upon  the  right,  exclaiming — 

"  Father  is  here.  He  is  come,  father !  We  found 
him  at  the  village." 

A  genial  wood  fire  blazed  and  crackled  in  the  wide, 
old-fashioned  chimney  of  this  room ;  and  near  it,  in 
an  easy  chair,  beside  a  candlestand,  sat  an  old  gentle- 
man, engaged  in  reading  a  newspaper.  No  whit  dis- 
turbed by  the  boisterous  onslaught  of  the  boys,  he 
calmly  laid  aside  his  paper  and  stood  up — an  under- 
sized, attenuated  old  man,  with  a  thin,  flushed  face, 
and  a  head  of  hair  as  white  and  soft  as  cotton  wool. 
He  stood,  slightly  trembling  with  partial  paralysis, 
but  received  Mr.  Sutherland  with  the  fine  courtesy  of 
an  old-school  gentleman. 

The  boys  hurried  about  their  own  business. 

The    man-servant    placed    an   arm    chair   for  Mr. 


THE   FATAL   MARRIAGE.  167 

Sutherland.  And  when  the  latter  was  fairly  seated, 
the  old  gentleman  resumed  his  own  seat,  and  inquired 
whether  his  guest  had  supped.  Being  answered  in 
the  affirmative,  he  nevertheless  ordered  refreshments 
to  be  served  there. 

A  stand,  with  wine,  sandwiches,  cake,  and  fruit  was 
placed  between  them;  and  while  they  discussed  these, 
the  old  gentleman,  in  an  indifferent  sort  of  manner, 
said — 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Sutherland,  have  you  seen  Mon- 
day's paper,  with  the  debate  on  the  tariff?  Here  it 
is ;  take  it — look  over  it.  Never  mind  me,  I  would 
prefer  that  you  should  see  it  now.  If  any  thing  strikes 
you,  just  read  it  aloud,  will  you  ?" 

Mark  took  the  paper,  but  found  the  "  debate"  to  be 
all  on  one  side,  and  in  the  mouth  of  one  individual, 
to  wit — the  Hon.  St.  Gerald  Ashley,  of  Virginia.  He 
ran  his  eye  over  it — the  old  man  fingering  cheese  and 
crackers,  and  pretending  to  eat,  not  to  interrupt  him. 
"  Do  you  wish  me  to  read  this  debate  aloud,  sir  ?"  asked 
Mark,  benevolently  inclined  to  indulge  the  aged 
father's  pride. 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  the  old  man,  smiling,  nodding, 
and  crumbling  soda  crackers;  "yes,  if  it  will  not 
tire  you." 

"  Oh,  by  no  means,"  answered  Mark ;  and  forthwith 
began. 

The  celebrated  speech  was,  indeed,  a  master-piece 
of  legislative  oratory ;  and  Mark  Sutherland  was  an 
admirable  elocutionist.  He  read,  became  deeply  in- 
terested and  absorbed,  and  before  long  was  betrayed, 
by  the  old  man's  enthusiasm  and  his  sympathy,  into 
declamation,  interrupted  now  and  then  by  Colonel 


1J3  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF    PEARL   RIVER. 

Ashley's  exclaiming,  "  Thafs  it !  hear,  hear.  T'//"t 
must  have  brought  down  the  House!  I  wonder  what 
the  Democrats  will  find  to  say  to  that!" 

Finally,  laughing  at  the  fever  into  which  he  had 
worked  himself  and  his  hearer,  Mark  finished  the 
speech,  and  laid  down  the  paper.  It  was  time — it  was 
past  eleven  o'clock — late  hours  for  country  people, 
and  far  too  late  for  the  aged  and  infirm. 

"Thank  you,  sir.  Thank  you.  You  have  given 
me  a  treat.  It  was  as  good  as  if  I  had  heard  it  spoken," 
said  the  old  man,  flushing  with  pride  and  pleasure. 
Soon  after,  he  rang  for  night  lamps,  and  a  servant  to 
show  Mr.  Sutherland  to  his  room. 

Early  next  morning,  Mark  Sutherland  arose  and 
left  his  bed-room.  The  family  were  not  yet  stirring; 
none  but  the  house  servants  were  about.  And  with 
the  restlessness  of  a  heart  ill  at  ease,  he  walked  out 
upon  the  piazza,  to  find  diversion  from  the  bitter  re- 
trospections of  the  past,  and  gloomy  forebodings 
of  the  future,  in  the  novel  aspect  of  the  country 
around  him. 

To  one  used  to  the  undulating,  luxurious  beauty 
of  southern  scenery,  there  was  something  startling 
and  inspiring  in  the  abrupt,  stern,  rugged,  yet  vigour- 
ous  and  productive  aspect  of  this  mountainous  region. 

The  Ashley  plantation  filled  the  whole  of  a  small 
valley,  shut  in  between  two  curving  spurs  of  the 
Alleghanies,  and  watered  by  a  branch  of  the  Rappa- 
harmock.  The  Ashley  house,  an  irregular  but  massive 
building  of  red  sandstone,  was  situated  at  the  foot  of 
the  mountain ;  behind  it  arose  hoary  rocks,  inter- 
mingled or  crowned  by  dark  evergreens  of  pine  and 
cedar;  before  it,  at  some  distance,  flowed  the  branch: 


THE   FATAL   MARRIAGE.  169 

around  on  every  side  within  the  vale  were  gardens, 
shrubberies,  orchards,  wheat  and  corn  fields  ;  and  here 
and  there,  picturesquely  placed,  or  half  concealed  by 
trees  or  jutting  rocks,  were  the  negro  quarters ;  while 
more  conspicuously,  in  the  midst  of  the  open  fields, 
stood  the  barns  and  granaries.  Altogether^  the  planta- 
tion, occupying  the  whole  valley,  and  completely  shut 
in  by  mountains,  was  an  independent,  isolated,  little 
domain  in  itself. 

Now,  upon  the  second  day  of  March,  the  grass 
along  the  margin  of  the  branch  was  already  fresh  and 
verdant,  and  the  wheat  fields  sprouting  greenly.  The 
morning  was  very  bright  and  fresh,  and  Mark  walked 
into  the  garden  that  lay  to  the  left  of  the  house. 
There  he  found  three  or  four  negroes,  under  the  di- 
rection of  the  gardener,  engaged  in  clearing  up  beds, 
tying  vines,  trimming  trees,  and  repairing  arbours 
and  garden  seats. 

This  place  had  not  the  luxurious  beauty  of  the 
south,  nor  the  fresh  and  vigorous  life  of  the  west ;  yet 
there  was  a  solid,  jolly,  old  homeliness  about  it,  very 
comfortable  even  in  contrast  tQ  those  other  scenes. 
Mark  felt  this,  while  alternately  talking  with  the  old 
gardener  or  contemplating  the  old  home. 

He  was  interrupted  by  an  irruption  of  that  Goth 
and  Vandal,  Henry  and  Richard  Ashley,  who,  rush- 
ing upon  him,  seized  the  one  his  right  hand  and  the 
other  his  left,  and  boisterously  informed  him  that 
breakfast  was  ready,  and  had  "  been  waiting  ever  so 
long." 

He  returned  their  vehement  greeting  good-humour- 
edly,  and  accompanied  them  into  the  house,  and  to 
the  break  fast -table,  which  was  set  in  the  old  oak 


170     INDIA.   THE  PEAKL  OF  PEARL  K1VER. 

parlour  where  he  had  passed  the  preceding  eve- 
ning. 

Two  ladies,  in  simple,  graceful,  morning  dresses 
of  white  cambric,  sat  near  the  fire,  occupied  with  a 
little  delicate  needlework ;  Colonel  Ashley  stood  with 
his  back  to  the  chimney,  with  tlie  paper  in  his  hand, 
and  talking  to  them  about  the  speech. 

On  seeing  Mr.  Sutherland,  the  old  gentleman  im- 
mediately stepped  forward,  welcomed  him,  and  con- 
ducted him  to  the  ladies,  saying,  "  My  dears,  this  is 
Mr.  Sutherland ;  Mr.  Sutherland,  my" 

But  before  another  syllable  was  spoken,  the  elder 
lady  had  lifted  her  face,  started  up  with  a  blush  of 
pleasure,  and  extended  her  hand,  exclaiming — 

"Mark  Sutherland  !     Is  it  possible !" 

"Mrs.  Vivian!  Miss  Vivian!"  exclaimed  Mark, 
extending  a  hand  to  each,  impulsively. 

"  Why,  how  strange  that  we  should  meet  here !" 
said  Valeria. 

"  A  most  pleasant  surprise,  indeed  I"  responded 
Mark. 

"  The  surprise  as  well  as  the  pleasure  is  mutual,  I 
assure  you !  But  how  did  it  happen  ?" 

''  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know." 

"  Nor  I.  Can  you  guess,  Rose  ?"  and  Mrs.  Vivian 
turned  to  her  step-daughter,  who  remained  silent,  with 
her  fingers  in  the  unconscious  clasp  of  Mark  Suther"1 
land's  hand. 

"  I  inquired  only  in  jest,  but  now  I  really  do  believe 
you  could  tell  us  something  about  this,"  persisted  the 
lady,  looking  intently  at  the  maiden. 

Rosalie's  pale  face  slightly  flushed ;  she  withdrew 
her  hand,  resumed  her  seat,  and  took  up  her  work. 


THE   FATAL    MAHKIAGE  171 

Colonel  Ashley,  if  he  felt,  certainly  expressed  no  sur- 
prise at  this  re-union ;  but  as,  with  stately  courtesy, 
he  handed  his  niece  to  the  head  of  the  table,  said, 
"As  Mrs.  Vivian  arrived  only  yesterday  afternoon, 
and  retired  at  once  to  rest  from  the  fatigue  of  her 
journey,  and  as  Mr.  Sutherland  reached  here  last 
night,  there  has  been  no  time  for  conversation  about 
our  arrangements." 

"Ah,  yes;  that's  all  very  well;  but  you'll  neve.- 
make  me  believe  that  Rose  is  not  at  the  bottom  of 
this,  somehow,"  laughed  the  widow,  shaking  her  jetty 
curls  as  she  sat  down  at  the  table.  Her  eyes  met 
those  of  Rosalie  for  an  instant,  and  the  spirit  of  mis- 
chief was  quelled.  She  became  silent  on  that  topic, 
and  soon  after  changed  the  subject,  entering  into  gay 
conversation  about  St.  Gerald  Ashley  and  his  sudden 
fame. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  Colonel  Ashley  invited 
Mr.  Sutherland  to  accompany  him  to  his  study,  where 
he  began  to  unfold  his  plan  for  the  education  of  his 
boys.  After  hearing  him  through,  Mark  inquired 
when  he  should  enter  upon  his  new  duties,  and  re- 
quested to  defer  the  commencement  until  Monday, 
and  to  use  the  intervening  time  to  become  acquainted 
with  his  home  and  pupils. 

The  interview  then  closed.  Both  gentlemen  de- 
scended the  stairs.  Colonel  Ashley  told  Mr.  Suther- 
land that  he  would  find  the  ladies  in  the  parlour,  and 
then,  excusing  himself,  bade  him  good  morning,  and 
entered  the  carriage,  which  was  waiting  to  take  him 
to  the  village. 

Mark  opened  the  parlour  door,  advanced  into  the 
room,  and  before  he  could  retreat,  saw  and  heard  the 


172  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL   KIVER. 

fragment  of  an  earnest  interview  between  the  mother 
and  daughter.  Mrs.  Vivian  sat  upon  the  sofa,  her 
head  bent,  her  jetty  curls  drooping,  her  jetty  eye-lashes 
and  rosy  cheeks  sprinkling  and  sparkling  with  tear- 
drops, like  morning  dew  upon  a  fresh  flower.  She 
•was  nimbly  and  nervously  stitching  away  at  a  piece 
of  muslin  embroidery. 

Rosalie  sat  on  a  cushion  before  her,  with  her  hands 
and  her  needlework  fallen  idly  on  her  lap,  and  her 
pale  hair  fallen  back  from  her  paler,  upturned  brow, 
and  earnest  eyes,  that  were  fixed  upon  her  mother's. 
She  was  asking  in  open  accents,  "  Oh,  mamma !  can 
this  be  possible  ?" 

"  Not  only  possible,  but  true,  Rose,"  replied  the  lady, 
dashing  the  sparkling  tears  away. 

"  Oh,  mammal  do  not  let  him  meet  such  a  shock ; 
prepare  him  for  it,  mamma." 

"I  cannot;  how  could  I?  Hush — here  he  is,"  said 
she,  perceiving  Mark.  And  in  an  instant,  presto  I  all 
was  changed. 

Smiling  out  from  her  tears,  like  an  April  sun  from 
a  cloud,  or  a  blooming  rose  scattering  its  dew  in  the 
breeze,  she  looked  up  and  said,  "  Come  in,  Mark ; 
draw  that  easy  chair  up  here  to  the  sofa,  and  sit  down, 
for  I  know  by  experience  that  men  are  lazy  as  the 
laziest  women." 

Mr.  Sutherland  took  the  indicated  seat.  Mis3 
Vivian  started  from  her  lowly  position,  resuming  her 
place  upon  the  sofa,  drawing  the  foot-cushion  under 
her  feet,  and  arranging  her  needlework. 

"It  is  really  surprising  that  we  should  all  meet 
here  so  unexpectedly  in  Alleghany  county,"  said  Mrs. 
Vivian. 


THE    FATAL    MARRIAGE.  173 

"I  certainly  had  not  anticipated  such  a  pleasure.  I 
did  not  know  that  you  were  related  to  Colonel  Ashley, 
or  to  any  one  else  in  this  part  of  the  country." 

"Nor  am  I.  Colonel  Ashley  is  Rosalie's  great 
uncle — her  mother's  uncle.  Colonel  Ashley's  last  re- 
maining single  daughter  was  married  last  year,  and 
Rosalie  was  invited  to  take  her  abdicated  place  in  his 
household.  Physicians  recommended  the  bracing  air 
of  the  mountains  for  my  delicate  girl,  and  therefore 
Rosalie  has  been  living  here  for  the  last  eighteen 
months — ever  since  we  left  Cashmere,  in  fact.  Last 
winter,  I  think,  was  rather  too  cold  for  her  here  on  the 
mountains.  I  spent  the  season  in  Washington,  from 
whence  I  have  just  returned ;  but  next  winter  I  in- 
tend to  take  Rose  to  Louisiana  with  me,  and  make  an 
arrangement  by  which  she  can  spend  all  her  winters 
in  the  south." 

"  Indeed,  mamma,  you  shall  not  immolate  your  hap- 
piness upon  my  ill  health.  You  shall  just  spend  your 
winters  in  Washington,  where  you  enjoy  life  so  much, 
and  your  summers  at  the  watering-places,  where  you 
meet  again  your  gay  and  brilliant  friends.  I  shall  do 
well  enough.  You  shall  visit  me  in  the  spring  and 
autumn  intervals." 

"  Oh,  a  truce,  Rosalie !  We  shall  be  set  down  as  a 
model  mother  and  daughter.  /  know,  for  one,  selfish- 
ness is  the  mainspring  of  all  my  acts.  I  rather  think 
I  like  you,  child,  and  prefer  to  see  you  well.  There ! 
I  declare  there's  Robert  with  the  horses  already.  Put 
on  your  cloth  habit,  Rosalie ;  the  morning  is  really 
cold ;  and  don't  let  him  take  you  far,  child ;  these 
hearty  men  have  very  little  instinctive  mercy  for  de- 


INDIA.      THE    PEARL    OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

hcate  girls,  and  he  would  not  imagine  he  hail  tired 
you  to  death  till  you  had  dropped  from  your  horse." 

Rosalie  arose,  rolled  up  her  work,  and  left  the 
room,  nodding  and  smiling  to  a  young  man  who  en- 
tered as  she  left.  "  Mr.  Bloomfield,"  said  the  lady, 
presenting  him  to  Mr.  Sutherland.  Mr.  Bloomfield 
was  a  sufficiently  pleasing  specimen  of  a  well-bred, 
country  beau — moderately  tall,  broad-shouldered,  and 
deep-chested — with  regular  features — fresh,  ruddy  com- 
plexion— clear,  merry  blue  eyes — and  lips,  whose 
every  curve  expressed  the  good  humour  and  benevo- 
lence of  a  kind,  contented  heart. 

"You  mustn't  take  Rose  far,  Robert." 

"  I  will  take  her  only  to  mother's." 

"And  you  sha'n't  teaze  her  with  any  more  non- 
sense !  I  can't  put  up  with  that,  you  know." 

Robert  Bloomfield  blushed  violently,  smiled  till  all 
his  regular  white  teeth  shone,  and  was  stammering 
out  a  blundering  deprecation,  when,  to  his  great  re- 
lief, Rosalie  appeared,  attired  for  the  ride.  The  young 
man  arose,  Mrs.  Vivian  surveyed  Rose,  to  be  sure  she 
was  well  defended  from  the  cold,  and  finally  yielded 
her  in  charge  of  her  escort,  who  bowed  and  took  her 
out. 

Mrs.  Vivian  and  Mark  looked  at  them  through  the 
window,  saw  him  place  her  in  the  saddle  with  more 
than  polite  attention — with  a  careful  and  tender  soli- 
citude that  made  her  smile.  When  they  had  ridden 
off,  she  turned  to  Mark,  and  said — 

"  I  like  that  good  humoured,  blundering  boy.  He 
has  been  paying  court  to  Rose  ever  since  she  has  been 
here.  He  is  a  young  man  of  independent  fortune,  ir- 
reproachable character,  fair  education,  and  most  ex- 


THE    FATAL    MARRIAGE.  175 

cellent  disposition,  and  he  has  loved  Rose  for  more 
than  a  year.  Yet,  with  all,  he  is  not  worthy  of  her  1 
he  wants  polish — the  polish  that  nothing  but  inter- 
course with  refined  society  can  give  him.  He  came 
to  see  me  last  winter  in  Washington,  got  fitted  out  by 
a  fashionable  tailor,  and  I  good-naturedly  took  him 
with  me  to  an  evening  party.  If  ever  I  do  such  a 

thing  again  as  long  as  I  live  may ;  but  never 

mind !  Just  think,  when  I  presented  him  to  a  super- 
fine belle,  of  his  holding  out  his  hands  to  shake  hands 
with  her,  telling  her  he  was  glad  to  see  her,  and 
hoping  that  if  ever  she  passed  through  his  part  of  the 
country,  she  would  pay  his  mother  and  sisters  a  visit, 
&c.  And  then,  when  the  elegant  Mrs.  A.  inquired  if 
Mr.  Bloomfield  waltzed,  just  fancy  him  blushing  furi- 
ously, and  saying  that  he  would  rather  not — that  he 
disapproved  of  waltzing !" 

"  Well !"  said  Mrs.  Vivian,  looking  up,  after  a 
pause. 

"  Yes — well  ?"  inquired  her  companion,  raising  his 
eyebrows. 

"  You  have  not  made  a  single  comment  upon  my 
country  beau.  I  see  how  it  is.  You're  thinking  of 
your  relatives.  Mark,  you  must  question  me  if  you 
want  me  to  tell  you  anything." 

"  My  mother" — began  the  young  man. 

"  She  is  living  very  comfortably  with  her  husband 
at  Cashmere." 

"  With  her  husband !" 

"  Is  it  possible  you  did  not  know  she  was  married, 
Mark  ?" 

"I  never  knew  it — I  never  dreamed  it — I  never 


176     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

thought  it   possible."     He  looked  shocked — he  was 
shocked. 

"And  why  not?"  asked  the  lady,  with  a  little 
jealous  petulance.  "  Why  may  not  a  widow  re- 
marry ?" 

"Nay — T  do  not  know,  I'm  sure,"  said  Mr.  Suther- 
land, with  his  eyebrows  still  raised,  and  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  floor.  "My  mother  married!  Will  you 
please  tell  me  to  whom  ?" 

"  To  whom  ?  Oh,  of  course  you  know,  Mark.  Now, 
who  was  it  likely  to  be,  but  Dr.  Wells  ?" 

"  Our  old  family  physician !" 

"  Why  of  course.  You  know  he  had  been  pleased 
with  her  a  long  time." 

"  That  my  mother  should  have  married !" 

"  She  never  would  have  done  so,  Mark,  had  you  not 
left  her." 

"  And  she  is  happy,  you  say  ?" 

"  Comfortable,  Mark.  Your  mother  and  Dr.  Wells 
make  what  Tim  Linken water  calls  'a  comfortable 
couple.' " 

"  I  am  not  so  much  grieved  as  surprised,"  said  Mr. 
Sutherland.  And  after  a  short  pause  he  said,  "  There 
was  another — my  cousin." 

The  face  of  the  lady  grew  troubled — she  did  not 
speak. 

"  Is  India  well  ?"  again  spake  Mark,  in  a  faltering 
voice. 

"  India  is  well,  and  beautiful  as  ever.  She  was  the 
belle  of  Washington  last  winter — her  beauty  the 
theme  of  every  tongue — the  envy  of  every  woman, 
the  madness  of  every  man.  No  assembly  was  com- 
plete without  'the  Pearl  of  Pearl  River!'  " 


ROSALIE   AND   HER   LOVER.  177 

Mark  Sutherland  grew  pale,  and  shivered — saying, 
"  Of  course  she" 

"  Among  her  own  sex  there  was  no  rival  star.  She 
divided  public  interest  and  attention  only  with  St. 
Gerald  Ashley,  that  great  new  planet  on  the  political 
horizon." 

Mark  Sutherland's  whole  strong  frame  was  con- 
vulsed. He  started  up  and  paced  the  floor  in  ex- 
treme agitation — then,  seizing  his  hat,  rushed  out  of 
i.he  room. 

"  And  /  was  to  prepare  him  for  it,  said  Eosalie !" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Yivian,  looking  after  him,  as  the  pity 
of  her  heart  grew  strong. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ROSALIE    AND    HER     LOVER. 

"  She  loves,  but  'tis  not  him  she  loves — 

Not  him  on  whom  she  ponders, 
When  in  some  dream  of  tenderness 

Her  truant  fancy  wanders. 
The  forms  that  flit  her  vision  through 

Are  like  the  shapes  of  old, 
Where  tales  of  prince  and  paladin 

On  tapestry  are  told. 
Man  may  not  hope  her  heart  to  win, 

Be  his  of  common  mould." — C.  F.  Hoffman. 

IN  the  meantime,  the  two  young  riders  took  their 
way  up  a  narrow  bridle-path,  leading  up  a  long 
crooked  pass  of  the  mountain. 

The  morning  was  glistening  with  brightness  and 
11 


178  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

freshness,  and  the  mingled  joyous  sounds  of  rural  life 
made  music  in  the  air.  They  rode  along  awhile  in 
silence,  strange  enough  in  a  pair  so  youthful.  At 
length  the  young  man  broke  the  spell. 

"  Rose !" 

"  Well,  Robert !" 

"I  cannot  bear  this  suspense!  I  cannot,  indeed. 
Heart  and  frame  are  wearing  out  with  it !" 

Rosalie  stole  a  glance  at  his  clear,  bright  blue  eye, 
and  round,  fresh,  ruddy  cheek,  looking  still  brighter 
and  fresher  under  the  glossy,  crisp,  curling,  auburn 
hair — and  a  smile  lighted  up  her  countenance. 

"Ah!  you  may  laughj  You  have  the  hardest,  the 
most  unimpressible  heart  I  ever  saw  .in  my  life!  But 
good  and  strong  as  my  constitution  is,  it  will  break 
down — it  will  indeed,  Rosalie — if  you  keep  this  up 
much  longer.  And  I  wish  it  would  break  down  !  I 
do  so !  Then  perhaps  you  would  pity  me." 

"  But,  Robert,  my  pity  would  be  very  poor  com- 
pensation for  lost  health." 

"  I  don't  know !  If  I  could  make  you  feel  for  me 
any  way,  or  at  any  cost,  I  should  be  glad." 

"  I  cfo,  Robert.  I  feel  a  very  sincere  esteem  and 
friendship  for  you.  Surely  you  cannot  doubt  that." 

"  Oh !  yes,  you  are  good  to  me  to  a  certain  degree. 
Your  heart  is  like  a  peach  1" 

"Like  a  peach!" 

"Yes;  it  is  superficially  soft  and  impressible,  but 
the  core  of  it  is  hard  and  rough — hard  and  rough ! 
Oh,  Rosalie,  can't  you  try  to  like  me  a  little  ?" 

"  I  like  you  very  much  without  trying !" 

"  Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean,  you  tormenting  girl  1 


ROSALIE  AND  HER  LOVER.          179 

Can't  you — you — can't  you  love  me  well  enough  to 
be  my  own  ?  Speak !  Answer !  Tell  me,  Rose  1" 

"  Oh,  Robert,  how  many  times  have  I  told  you — no?" 

"  I — but  I  won't  take  no  for  an  answer  I  All  my 
affections  and  hopes  are  freighted  in  you,  and  I  will 
not  resign  you  ;  I  will  not,  Rose.  I  will  go  on  hoping 
in  spite  of  you — hoping  against  hope !  It  is  impossible 
— mind  I  say  impossible — any  one  loving  as  I  do, 
should  not  win  love  in  return.  It  does  seem  to  me  as 
if  it  would  be  unjust  in  heaven  to  permit  it  1" 

He  spoke  with  impatient,  passionate  vehemence  and 
earnestness. 

Rosalie  watched  and  heard  him  with  wondering  and 
sorrowing  interest.  She  gravely  said — 

"  '  It  is  impossible  that  one  loving  so  much  should 
not  win  love  in  return,'  you  say  ?  Yes,  it  does  seem 
impossible,  if  we  did  not  know  it  to  be  often  really 
possible.  It  does  seem  unjust  1" 

"You  acknowledge  it!  You  own  it  to  be  unjust 
that  I  should  give  you  so  much — give  you  all — my 
entire  heart,  with  all  its  affections  and  hopes — and  get 
back  nothing,  nothing  in  return — or  next  to  it — only 
'  esteem,'  forsooth !  and  '  friendship !'  That  provokes 
and  exasperates  me  beyond  endurance!  Rosalie,  I 
don't  want  your  esteem  or  friendship.  I  refuse  and 
repudiate  itl  I  reject  and  repulse  it!  I  will  have 
none  of  it !  Give  me  nothing,  or  give  me  your  whole 
heart  and  hand !" 

"  I  would  to  Heaven  I  could  do  it,  Robert !  I  would 
to  Heaven  I  could  give  you  my  heart.  I  am  ready  to 
say  that  if  1  could,  I  should  then  be  a  happy  and 
enviable  girl ,  because  I  believe  you  a  most  excellent 
young  man,  whose  only  weakness  is  your  regard  for 


180  IXDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

me.  But  I  cannot,  Jlobert.  With  all  my  friendship 
for  you" — 

"Don't  name  it  I" 

"  I  must,  Eobert !  "With  all  my  friendship  for  you, 
when  you  talk  of  love,  my  heart  grows  hard  and 
cold,  and  silent  as  a  stone — it  has  no  response  for  you 
at  all." 

"  And  you  say  that  to  drive  me  out  of  my  senses — 
to  make  me  wild !" 

"  I  say  it  because  it  is  the  simple  truth.  I  am  sorry 
that  such  is  the  truth.  I  think,  with  you,  it  is  strange 
• — strange — almost  unjust,  that  so  much  priceless  love 
should  be  thrown  away." 

"How  cool  she  is!  Good  Heaven,  how  cool 
she  is !" 

"T  have  a  problem  for  you,  Kobert;  and  I  want  to 
see  if,  with  all  your  mathematics,  you  can  solve  it, 
and  satisfy  me  as  to  why  there  is  so  much  love  lost  in 
this  world." 

"  She  can  philosophise,  too,  after  her  fashion.  She 
can  do  anything  but  love  1" 

"  Will  you  solve  my  problem  ?" 

"  It  belongs  rather  to  metaphysics  than  mathematics, 
one  would  think — nevertheless,  state  it." 

"Thus,  then:  A  loves  B — or  rather,  to  be  clearer, 
Aaron  loves  Belinda  with  a  perfect  passion ;  and  he 
thinks,  by  reason  of  its  great  power,  it  must  win  a 
response  from  her.  But  Belinda  involuntarily  turns 
from  Aaron,  and  fixes  her  affection  upon  Charles,  who 
does  not  in  the  least  return  it.  Now,  why  should 
these  cross  purposes  exist?  They  say  that  marriages 
are  made  in  heaven.  I  wish  the  angel  that  has  charge 
of  them  would  look  into  this  matter  a  little." 


ROSALIE   AND   HER   LOVER.  181 

She  spoke  in  a  light,  bantering  manner,  yet  her 
voice  quivered  slightly.  She  stole  an  arch  glance  at 
her  companion,  and  said — 

"  There  is  my  problem — solve  it." 

He  eyed  her  closely,  jealously. 

"  Are  you  putting  an  imaginary  case  ?"  he  asked. 

"Nay,  answer  my  question  before  asking  an- 
other." 

"  Well,  then,  yes !  I  will  tell  you  how  this  ought 
to  end,  and  how  it  shall  end,  too.  Belinda  will  soon 
feel  it  to  be  unwomanly,  indelicate,  undignified,  to 
leave  her  heart  in  the  possession  of  one  who  under- 
values the  priceless  treasure;  she  will  withdraw  it, 
and  yield  it  up  at  the  demand  of  the  rightful 
owner — of  him  who  justly  claims  it  because  he  prizes 
it  above  all  treasures,  and  desires  it  above  all  pos- 
sessions 1" 

"You  think  so?"  said  Eosalie,  averting  her  face, 
and  bending  down,  and  stroking  her  horse's  mane. 

"  I  know  so." 

"How  do  you  know  it?" 

"  Because  it  ought  to  be  so." 

"  Again — why  ?" 

"  Because  man's  love  is  the  conquering  love !  But 
now,  tell  me — were  you  putting  an  imaginary 
case  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  was  putting  an  imaginary  case,"  she  said, 
in  a  low,  quiet  tone. 

She  drew  rein. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Eosalie?  Are  you  tired? 
Has  the  ride  been  too  much  for  you  ?"  inquired  the 
young  man,  checking  his  horse,  and  looking  anxiously 
at  her. 


182  INDIA.      THE   PEAUL    OF   PEARL   KIVER. 

"  Yes,  I  think  so,"  she  answered,  wearily. 

"  Rest  awhile,  and  then  we  will  go  on." 

"  No — I  must  go  home — the  air  is  very  chill,"  she 
said,  shivering. 

"And  you  are  pale,"  he  observed,  gazing  at  her 
with  earnest,  affectionate  interest. 

She  returned  that  gaze  with  a  pensive,  grateful 
glance,  saying — ''Indeed,  I  feel  I  ought  to  be  very 
grateful  to  you  for  caring  so  much  for  a  poor,  sickly 
creature,  like  me.  You  in  such  fine  health,  too.  I 
do  not  understand  it.  I  thought  every  one  preferred 
blooming  girls ;  but  you  attach  yourself  to  poor,  pale 
me.  Dear  Robert,  believe  me,  I  am  very,  very  grateful 
for  your  love,  however  this  may  end.  I  do  wish  I 
could  be  more  than  grateful.  Dear  Robert,  if  I  could 
give  you  my  whole  heart  as  easily  as  I  give  you  this 
rose,  I  would  do  it."  And  detaching  a  white  rose  from 
her  bosom,  she  handed  it  to  him. 

And  they  turned  their  horses'  heads,  and  went  down 
the  mountain  path,  towards  home. 


ROSALIE.  183 


CHAPTER  XL 

ROSALIE. 

"Imagine  something  purer  far, 

More  free  from  stain  of  clay, 
Than  friendship,  love  or  passion  are, 

Yet  human  still  as  they. 
And  if  thy  lip  for  love  like  this 

No  mortal  word  can  frame, 
Go  ask  of  angels  what  it  is, 

And  call  it  by  that  name." — Moore. 

ROSALIE  YIVIAX  and  Robert  Bloom  field  reached 
home  just  as  the  carriage  containing  Colonel  Ashley 
rolled  into  the  yard.  The  old  gentleman  alighted, 
greeted  the  young  people  with  a  most  cheerful  and 
kindly  smile,  and  with  unusual  vigour  and  lightness 
tripped  up  stairs  into  the  house.  His  servant,  laden 
with  packets  of  newspapers  and  letters,  followed. 

nYou  may  take  my  word  for  it,  Rosalie,  that  the 
Colonel  has  received  some  excellent  news  by  this 
morning's  mail !  And  now  just  observe  the  power 
of  the  soul  over  the  body !  Joyful  news  will  so  reju- 
venate infirm  old  age,  that  it  will  skip  about,  elastic 
as  youth.  Witness  Colonel  Ashley,  who  stepped  up 
those  stairs  more  lightly  than  I  ever  saw  him  move  in 
my  life ;  while  disappointment  and  sorrow  will  so  en- 
feeble youth  that  it  will  move  about  drooping  like 
paralytic  age.  Witness  me  ready  to  drop  from  my 
saddle  with  exhaustion — from  your  unkindness,  Ro- 
salie!" 

"I  am  not  unkind,  nor  do  you  look  very  much 


184     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

prostrated,  let  me  say,  Kobert!  But  will  you  not 
come  in  ?" 

*'No,"  mournfully  replied  the  young  man,  assisting 
her  to  alight. 

"You  had  better — we  have  strawberries  for  the 
first  time  this  spring." 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Robert,  with  an  offended 
air. 

"  Strawberries  from  uncle's  premium  conservatory, 
and  cream  from  my  own  premium  dairy ;  you  had 
"better  think  it  over  1" 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Robert,  contemptuously. 

"  Oh,  then,  there's  no  more  to  be  said,  of  course !" 

"  Good  morning,  Rosalie !" 

"Good  morning,  Robert;  but  won't  you  shake  hands 
with  me?"  she  asked,  offering  her  hand.  He  seized 
that  little  hand,  and  squeezed  it  and  pressed  it  to  his 
lips,  and  with  an  expression  of  curiously-blended  de- 
precation and  reproach,  dropped  it,  mounted  his  horse, 
and  galloped  away. 

Mrs.  Vivian  was  standing  dawdling  with  a  white 
rose  in  the  piazza..  She  came  forward,  with  tender 
care,  to  meet  Rosalie.  "Did  you  ride  far — are  you 
tired,  love?" 

"  Not  very." 

"  But  you  look  pale  and  wearied." 

"A  moment's  rest  will  restore  me,  dear  mamma." 

"Come  in  and  sit  down,  while  I  take  off  your 
things,"  said  the  kind  little  lady,  leading  her  step- 
child into  the  parlour.  She  sat  her  down  in  a  deep- 
cushioned  chair,  rang  the  bell,  ordered  a  cordial,  and 
then  removed  her  hat  and  riding  skirt.  When  she 
had  made  Rosalie  take  a  cracker  and  u  little  glass  of 


ROSALIE.  185 

anise-seed  cordial,  and  when  the  salver  was  removed, 
and  they  were  left  alone,  Rosalie  reclining  upon  the 
sofa,  Valeria  sitting  in  the  easy  chair  near  her,  the 
lady  inquired — 

"  Why  did  not  Robert  come  in  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  unless  it  was  because  he  did  not 
wish  to  do  so." 

"  Have  you  quarrelled  ?" 

"  Quarrelled !  Dear  mamma,  I  never  had  a  quarrel 
with  any  one  in  all  my  life,  and  never  expect  to  have 
one  with  anybody — least  of  all  with  Bob." 

"  That  is  no  reason  you  should  not  have  a  lover's 
quarrel — they  befall  the  most  amiable  pair.  Is  it  so  ?" 

"What,  mamma?" 

"Have  you  and  Robert  had  a  'lover's  quarrel?'  " 

"  No,  indeed — I  assure  you." 

"  Yet  Robert  went  away  offended — '  in  dudgeon,'  as 
uncle  would  say." 

Rosalie  looked  distressed.  The  lady  eyed  her  search- 

iugiy- 

"  Rosalie,  will  you  let  me  speak  to  you  frankly,  and 

ask  you  a  few  questions  ?" 

"  Certainly,  dear  mamma ;  I  would  turn  my  heart 
inside  out,  and  show  you  its  most  hidden  secret,  if  it 
had  any  secrets." 

"  Well,  then,  are  you  and  Robert  engaged  ?" 

"No,  mamma." 

"He  has  not  yet  proposed,  then?" 

"  I  scarcely  know,  mamma,  whether  I  ought  to  re- 
veal poor  Robert's  confidences." 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  mamma !" 

"  You  did  not  reject  him  ?'* 


186  INDIA.      THE   PEAIiL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  I'm  astonished  !     Ilow  long  ago  has  this  been  ?" 

"  Dear  mamma,  twelve  months  ago  Robert  first  did 
me  the  honour  of  offering  his  hand,  and  I  gratefully 
declined  it." 

"  Yet  continued  to  keep  his  company !  Oh,  Rosalie ! 
"Well,  has  he  ever  renewed  his  proposals  ?" 

"  Yes,  mamma,  several  times." 

"  And  you  have  continued  to  reject  them  ?" 

"  Of  course,  mamma." 

"And  yet  you  still  accept  his  attentions!  Oh, 
Rosalie  I" 

"  Was  I — am  I  wrong,  mamma  ?"  asked  Rosalie, 
looking  up  from  where  she  reclined  upon  the  sofa. 

The  lady  sat  with  her  hands  clasped  upon  her 
knees,  in  a  simple  attitude,  with  her  eyes  fixed  in 
sorrowful  doubt  upon  her  child. 

"  Do  you  ever  mean  to  review  your  decision,  and 
accept  him,  Rosalie  ?" 

"  Never,  mamma,  I  assure  you !" 

"  Are  you  very  certain,  Rosalie  ?" 

"Certain,  dear  mamma,  beyond  all  possibility  of 
doubt." 

"  If  I  could  believe  it" 

"Dear  mamma,  you  may  rest  assured  of  it !  Why, 
if  I  thought  it  was  to  be  my  fate  to  marry  Robert 
Bloomfield,  well  as  I  like  him,  I  think  I  should  die 
of  grief!" 

"  And  yet  you  keep  his  company  I  Oh !  Rosalie,  I 
am  surprised." 

"  Is  it  not  right,  mamma  ?" 

"  What  a  simple  question  !  Oh,  child  !  if  it  were 
not  you,  I  should  say  it  is  unprincipled !" 


KOSALIE.  187 

"  Mamma,  you  distress  and  alarm  me !  Why  must 
I  not  keep  poor  Robert's  company,  when  he  takes  so 
much  comfort  in  my  society  ?" 

"  Comfort !  Does  he  take  comfort — do  you  call  it 
comfort?  No,  Rosalie,  it  is  a  feverish,  consuming 
hope  that  keeps  him  at  your  side ;  a  wasting,  baleful 
hope,  which,  since  you  do  not  intend  to  realize  to 
him,  it  is  your  bounden  duty  to  extinguish  for- 
ever !" 

"Mamma!  I  do  not  quite  understand  you.  I  am 
sorry,  very  sorry,  that  I  cannot  return  Robert's  re- 
gard"  

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  lady,  interrupting  her,  "I 
am  not  sorry  for  that:  as  to  that,  I  am  very  glad 
you  are  not  engaged  to  him,  nor  ever  likely  to  be ; 
but" 

"  But  why  add  to  the  grief  of  rejection  the  bitter- 
ness of  ingratitude  and  coldness'/" 

"To  refuse  his  attentions,  to  deny  him.  your  com- 
pany, would  not  be  either  the  one  or  the  other,  and 
it  is  your  duty." 

"When  poor  Robert  has  no  consolation  in  the 
world  but  my  company" 

"To  say  he  has  no  other  intoxication,  would  be 
nearer  the  truth.  Rosalie,  you  are  so  young,  so  deli- 
cate, so  spirituelle,  so  inexperienced.  Rosalie,  there  is 
a  kindness  that  is  cruel,  and  that  is  what  you  have 
been  showing  'poor  Robert'  all  this  time.  And  there 
is  a  cruelty  that  is  kind,  and  that  is  what  you  must 
show  him  now." 

"  Mamma,  if  you  think  it  wrong,  I  will  never  ride 
with  him  again." 

"  And  avoid  him  as  much  as  possible,  Rosalie." 


188  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

"Indeed  I  will,  rnarnma.     Poor  Kobert!" 

"  Fudge !  It  will  not  hurt  him.  The  flame  without 
fuel  will  soon  expire  harmlessly." 

By  this  time  the  young  girl  had  quite  recovered 
from  her  fatigue,  and  she  arose  and  left  the  room,  to 
prepare  her  strawberries,  she  said. 

She  passed  into' a  pleasant  back  room,  connected 
with  the  pantry  and  dining-room,  but  opening  upon 
the  garden,  and  devoted  to  certain  light  dessert  pre- 
parations; such  as  the  shelling  of  peas,  stoning  of 
cherries,  &c.  It  was  a  cool  apartment,  with  a  bare, 
white  oak  floor,  and  many  doors  and  windows  open, 
and  looking  out  upon  the  pleasant  garden,  with  its 
budding  spring  flowers — its  roses,  hyacinths,  and 
daffodils — and  upon  the  orchard,  with  its  peach  trees 
and  cherry  trees,  covered  with  pink  and  with  white 
blossoms,  and  further  off,  upon  the  green  and  dewy 
wheat  field,  lying  in  fertile  dales  between  gray  and 
mossy  rocks  and  mountains.  It  was  indeed  a  pleasant 
apartment,  looking  out  upon  a  fresh,  verdant,  rural 
scene.  Rosalie  sat  down  in  the  midst  of  the  room, 
with  a  basket  of  fresh  strawberries  on  her  right  hand, 
an  empty  basket  to  receive  the  caps  on  her  left,  and 
a  cut-glass  dish  on  her  lap.  She  chose  to  do  this. 
She  had  a  decided  attraction  to  these  little  graceful 
domestic  avocations;  and  as  her  nimble  fingers 
capped  the  strawberries,  and  dropped  berries  in  the 
dish,  and  threw  caps  in  the  basket,  she  began  to  sing 
some  lively  rural  glee;  and  while  she  was  busily 
engaged,  singing  and  capping,  she  chanced  to  look 
up,  and  saw  Mark  Sutherland  approaching  the  house 
from  the  garden.  He  met  her  glance,  and  smiled.  She 


ROSALIE.    '  189 

was  in  a  merry  mood,  or  she  would  not  have  felt  free 
to  say  to  him  what  she  did. 

"  Come  in,  Mr.  Sutherland ;  I  have  got  something 
for  you,  very  nice!" 

Mark  came  in,  and  she  said,  "Make  a  bowl  of  your 
joined  hands,  now,  and  here  1" 

She  poured  into  his  hands  some  fine  large  straw- 
berries, adding, 

"  These  are  the  first  fruits  of  the  season,  Mr.  Suth- 
erland, and  we  offer  them  to  you." 

"Let  me  first  merit  them,  by  helping  you,"  said 
Mark. 

"Will  you  help  me?" 

"  Certainly ;  that  is,  if  I  arn  not  intruding  on  some 
housekeeping  sanctuary." 

"  Oh,  no !  this  room  is  open  and  common  to  the 
whole  family;  why,  it  is  the  pleasantest  room  in  the 
house,  only  as  it  is  near  the  pantry  and  dining-room, 
and  opens  upon  the  kitchen  garden,  we  prepare  our 
fruit,  and  sometimes  pick  over  our  vegetables  here." 

Mr.  Sutherland  drew  a  chair  on  the  other  side  of 
the  strawberry  basket,  and  went  to  work — nobody 
could  tell  why — actuated  by  some  whim,  no  doubt. 
After  a  little  desultory  conversation,  Mr.  Sutherland 
said, 

"  I  believe,  dear  Eosalie,  that  I  owe  this  situation 
to  your  friendly  remembrance,  and  I  have  been  wait- 
ing some  hours  for  an  opportunity  of  expressing  my 
thanks." 

Rosalie's  face  flushed  to  the  temples. 

"I  am  deeply  obliged  and  grateful  to  my  fair 
patroness." 

The    blush    deepened,  crimsoning   her    face.      She 


190  INDIA.      THE   PEARL    OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

waved  her  hand  deprecatingly,  impatiently;  she  began 
— "  Mr.  Sutherland" — and  stopped,  as  it  were,  choked. 

"  Miss  Vivian,  are  you  so  unwilling  to  receive  my 
acknowledgments?  Then  must  my  gratitude  be 
silent,  but  not  the  less  deep." 

Again  she  essayed  to  speak,  and  the  words  came 
vehemently,  impetuously. 

"  I  had  no  agency  in  procuring  this  situation  for 
you,  Mr.  Sutherland.  How  could  you  think  for  a  mo- 
ment that  /,  or  any  one  else,  could  presume  to  '  pa- 
tronize' you  in  such  a  manner  ?  How  could  you  sup- 
pose, for  an  instant,  that  I,  or  any  one  else  that  knew 
you,  could  deem  this  position  a  fit  and  proper  one  for 
you  ?  No !  could  I  have  dared  to  interfere,  it  would 
have  been  to  prevent  your  coming  here." 

There  was  a  tone  of  honest,  earnest  indignation  in 
her  voice,  looks,  and  manner,  that  utterly  astounded 
Mark  Sutherland.  Could  it  be  that  she  thought  him 
unworthy  of  the  position  ?  No ;  he  dismissed  that 
surmise  at  once,  and  answered,  quietly, 

"  I  confess  you  surprise  me,  Rosalie !  Is  not  the 
vocation  of  a  teacher  really  honourable,  if  conven- 
tionally humble  ?" 

"  It  is  greater,  higher,  more  difficult,  more  respon- 
sible, than  any  other,  except  that  of  the  preacher  of 
the  Gospel !"  answered  the  girl,  earnestly. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  then — am  I  unfit  for  it  ?" 

"Yes,  you  are  totally  unfit  for  it." 

"Why?"  smiled  Mark;  "has  my  education  been 
neglected  ?" 

"  I  know  that  you  are  a  distinguished  classical  and 
mathematical  scholar,  Mr.  Sutherland;  and  for  any 
other  branch  of  knowledge  quite  fitted  to  toke  a  pro- 


ROSALIE.  191 

lessor's  chair;  but  to  be  a  teacher  of  youth  requires 
other  and  rarer  qualifications,  which  you  have  not." 

"  To  wit  ?"  inquired  Mark,  much  amused  with  his 
young  mentor. 

"  First,  then,  you  should  have  a  natural  vocation 
for  teaching,  and  consequently  the  love  of  it,  which 
you  have  not ;  a  great  deal  of  affection  for  children, 
which  you  have  not;  much  patience,  perseverance, 
firmness,  social  humility,  some  of  which  qualities  you 
have,  and  others  you  have  not." 

"  I  am  tempted  to  ask  you  to  specify  which  I  have 
^nd  which  I  have  not,  but  I  will  not." 

"I  thought  you  were  going  to  open  a  glorious 
career  for  yourself,  and  achieve  a  great  name." 

"  In  what  manner  ?" 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  be  a  statesman." 

"A  lawyer,  child." 

"  Why  are  you  here,  then,  Mr.  Sutherland  ?  Why 
are  you  not  a  lawyer  ?" 

"  Eosalie,  I  made  an  effort,  many  an  effort,  to  get 

admitted  to  practice,  at  the  bar  of  S .  I  had 

thought  myself  well  qualified,  for  I  had  studied  legal 
science  with  what  you  call  an  attraction — a  vocation 
for  the  profession.  For  several  years  past  I  had  read 
law  con  amore;  yet,  through  the  want  of  familiarity 
with  the  technicalities  of  practice,  I  failed  to  get  ad- 
mitted as  a  practitioner  before  the  court." 

"  Then  I  would  have  gone  into  some  lawyer's  office, 
and  assisted  him  as  a  copyist  for  nothing,  until  I  had 
acquired  an  intimacy  with  those  crabbed  technicalities. 
It  seems  to  me  such  a  very  trivial  matter  for  an  im- 
pediment. Why,  there  is  your  uncle,  who  is  no  law- 
yer, but  who  can  draw  up  a  right  legal  and  binding 


192  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

document,  with  as  many  '  whereases'  and  '  aforesaids' 
as  ever  made  a  composition  unintelligible." 
*    "  My  dear  Rosalie,  that  would  have  been  a  very 
small  beginning." 

"  '  Despise  not  the  day  of  small  things,'  said  the  wise 
man.  And  at  least  the  lawyer's  office  would  have 
been  in  the  way  of  your  genius ;  and  to  have  entered 
it  in  the  capacity  of  copyist  would  have  been  much 
better  than  to  have  turned  into  this  by-path,  which  is 
utterly  apart  from  it." 

"There  were  difficulties  in  the  way  of  even  that, 
Rosalie." 

"  And  even  if  there  were  difficulties,  what  then  ? 
We  have  no  royal  road  to  distinction  in  our  country. 
We  have  no  ready-made  great  men.  None  are  'born 
great ;'  none  have  '  greatness  thrust  upon  them.'  If 
any  would  be  great,  he  must  'achieve  greatness.' 
Nearly  all  of  our  heroes  and  statesmen  have  struggled 
up  from  the  humblest  places  in  society — have  strug- 
gled up,  alone  and  unaided,  until  they  have  proved 
their  mettle;  and  the  struggle  has  been  wholesome 
for  them,  and  has  turned  them  out  sound  and  health- 
ful natures." 

"You  speak  wisely  and  truly,  dear  Rosalie;  yet 
each  of  all  these  men  to. whom  you  have  alluded,  had 
near  and  dear  friends — mother,  sisters,  a  wife,  per- 
haps— to  watch  his  career,  and  rejoice  in  it — to  soothe 
him  in  moments  of  exasperation,  from  injustice,  from 
opposition,  from  persecution,  and  to  encourage  him  in 
hours  of  depression  and  despondency,  when  all  his 
hopes  and  energies  seemed  palsied,  and  the  wheels  of 
life  and  action  seemed  clogged  and  stopped ;  and, 
finally,  to  share  and  enjoy  his  success,  and  to  glory  in 


ROSALIE.  l'J3 

his  triumph.  Oh,  believe  me,  Rosalie,  man  cannot 
work  for  himself  alone !  It  were  a  low  and  selfish 
aiai!" 

"Bat  he  can  work  for  humanity — he  can  work  for 
God  !"  said  Rosalie,  in  a  low  and  reverent  voice. 

Mark  Sutherland  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
ground,  in  deep  thought.  Rosalie  continued — 

"  Attain  a  position,  Mr.  Sutherland — such  a  position 
as  the  prophetic  voice  in  your  heart  foretels.  Win 
fame  1  not  for  yourself,  but  for  men  and  God  !  not  for 
your  own  aggrandizement,  but  for  the  POWER  to  right 
the  wronged,  to  raise  the  fallen,  to  deliver  the  op- 
pressed, to  redeem  the  evil,  to  speak  with  AUTHORITY 
the  truth  to  men  and  before  God !  Labour,  wait, 
struggle,  for  such  a  position,  and,  though  no  mother, 
sister,  wife,  or  love,  smile  on  your  career,  men  and 
women  will  know  it !  God  will  bless  it !" 

Mark  Sutherland  still  remained  buried  in  deep  and 
silent  thought  upon  her  words.  Oh,  if  India  had  so 
spoken  to  him,  so  sympathized  with  his  aspirations, 
so  encouraged  his  flagging  hopes  and  energies,  what 
might  he  not  have  accomplished,  even  before  this ! 
But  this  child  Rosalie  was  nothing,  and  yet  she  spoke 
words  of  high  moment,  and  spoke  them  "  as  one  having 
authority." 

"You  astonish  me,  Rosalie;  you  talk  far  beyond 
your  years  and  sex ;  you  really  astound  me." 

"  I  wish  I  could  convince  you." 

"  You  do,  you  do,  my  child.  But,  Rosalie,  how  is 
this?  You  must  have  reflected  very  much,  for  one 
of  your  tender  years." 

"1  am  not  so  young;  I  am  seventeen." 

"  A  venerable  age,  indeed.     But,  Rosalie,  how  is  it 


19-i  INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

that  you  have  thought  so  much  beyond  girls  of  your 
age?" 

"  Have  I  done  so  .r' 

"  Why,  assuredly — do  you  not  know  that  you  have? 
Now  tell  me  how  it  is." 

"  Well,  if  it  is  so  as  you  say — for  /  do  not  know  and 
cannot  judge  of  young  people,  having  never  had  any 
young  companions — I  suppose  it  is  because  I  have 
been  always  sickly,  and  have  always  led  an  isolated, 
meditative  life ;  hearing  in  my  secluded  retreat  only 
the  loudest  thunders  of  the  distant  great  world  of 
society,  I  have  naturally  thought  most  about  its  great 
successes,  and  how  they  were  accomplished.  I  have 
watched  from  afar  the  career  of  living  great  men,  and 
have  secretly  made  unto  myself  idols  like  them.  I 
have  read  with  deep  interest  the  lives  of  distinguished 
statesmen  and  heroes,  particularly  those  who  have 
struggled  up  from  poverty  and  obscurity ;  that  is  the 
reason." 

"Yet  that  is  very  unusual  in  so  young  and  beautiful 
a  girl.  I  cannot  yet  comprehend  it — I  can  scarcely 
believe  in  it." 

"  The  pleasures  of  childhood  and  girlhood  were  not 
for  me — there  was  nothing  left  but  books,  and  much 
thought  over  needlework,  in  solitary  hours.  Please 
do  not  give  me  undue  credit;  it  is  more  mortifying 
than  blame.  I  must  tell  you  how  it  was  I  thought  so 
much  of  your  life.  Nearly  two  years  ago,  after  you 
made  such  a  vast  sacrifice  to  principle — giving  up 
wealth,  station,  popularity,  family,  friends,  love,  es- 
teem, all  for  your  ideas  of  duty — hero- worshipper  that 
I  was,  I  recognized  in  you  the  elements  of  which 
heroes  are  made,  and1'- 


ROSALIE.  195 

She  blushed,  and  suddenly  stopped,  conscious  of 
the  indelicacy  of  praising  him  to  his  face. 

"  Go  on,  dear  Rosalie." 

Still  she  remained  silent  and  embarrassed. 

"  Well, -"Rosalie,  you  saw,  or  rather  you  iliought  you 
saw,  in  me  the  elements  of  heroism  ?" 

"It  was  very  impertinent  in  me  to  presume  to  say 
so — forgive  it  1" 

"  Nay,  dear  child,  I  beg  you  won't  take  it  back ! 
If  you  do  not  hope  for  me,  who  will  ?" 

"  Indeed,  I  do  hope  for  your  success  very  strongly 
— and  more  than  that,  I  count  upon  it  very  confi- 
dently"  

"  But  finish  what  you  were  going  to  say ;  you  saw 
in  some  one  '  the  elements  of  which  heroes  are  made, 
and'  " 

"  Oh,  nothing,  only  I  dived  more  deeply  than  ever 
before  into  my  lives  of  great  men,  and  reflected  more 
than  ever  upon  the  causes  that  made  them  great,  if 
you  do  not  think  it  presumption  in  a  girl  like  me  to 
talk  of  reflection  upon  such  a  subject.  But  my  mind 
ever  had  an  attraction  to  it,  and  you  gave  that  attrac- 
tion a  new  and  strong  interest.  I  thought  of  you, 
and  hoped  that  you  were  on  the  road  to  an  honour- 
able and  beneficent  distinction.  I  was  grieved  to 
hear  that  you  were  coming  here;  I  would  have 
opposed  it,  had  I  dared.  Do  not  stay  here,  Mr. 
Sutherland." 

"  I  must  fulfil  my  engagement  with  your  uncle !" 

"  My  uncle  will  release  you  from  it." 

"  Yet,  dear  Rosalie,  I  cannot  leave  now." 

"Do  not  think  me  importunate,  impertinent;  I 
wish  you  would  go  even  now  to-day." 


196     INDIA.   THE  PEAKL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

Mark  Sutherland  looked  up  at  her  in  surprise,  but 
checked  the  answer  that  rose  to  his  lips,  when  he  saw 
her  troubled  face.  Her  work  being  now  completed, 
she  arose,  and  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

BRIDAL     PREPARATIONS. 

"  Oh,  yet  we  know  that  somehow  good 
Will  be  the  final  goal  of  ill, 
To  pangs  of  nature,  sins  of  will, 
Defects  of  doubt,  and  taints  of  blood : 

"That  nothing  walks  with  aimless  feet; 
That  not  one  life  shall  be  destroyed, 
Or  cast  as  rubbish  to  the  void, 
When  God  hath  made  the  pile  complete  : 

"  That  not  a  worm  is  cloven  in  vain  ! 

That  not  a  worm,  with  vain  desire, 
Is  shrivelled  in  a  fruitless  fire, 
Or  but  subserves  another's  gain." — Tennyton. 

FOR  the  next  several  days,  various  notes  of  prepa- 
ration as  for  some  joyful  coming  event,  were  sounded 
through  the  old  hall.  Servants,  within  and  without 
the  house,  pursued  their  avocations  with  unusual  alac- 
rity. Waggons,  with  new  furniture,  arrived  from  a 
neighbouring  town.  In  the  drawing-room  and  par- 
lours, Mrs.  Vivian  directed  the  operations  of  the  up- 
holsterers, in  putting  down  new  carpets,  and  hanging 
new  curtains,  mirrors,  &c.  On  the  lawn,  and  in  the 
garden,  Rosalie's  taste  presided  at  the  trimming  and 


BRIDAL   PREPARATIONS.  197 

dressing  of  vines,  shrubs,  and  flowers;  while  from  one 
to  the  other  Colonel  Ashley  flew  with  a  gay,  busy  in- 
terest. They  were  all  evidently  playing  the  prelude 
to  some  great  family  festival.  Mark  Sutherland  re- 
mained unenlightened  upon  the  subject,  until,  one 
morning,  as  he  walked  out  upon  the  piazza,  to  enjoy 
the  early  freshness  of  the  air,  he  was  joined  by  the  two 
lads,  Henry  and  Eichard,  who,  seizing  each  a  hand, 
eagerly  inquired — 

"Are  you  going  to  walk  out  this  morning,  before 
breakfast,  Mr.  Sutherland  ?" 

A  nod  and  smile  was  his  answer.  He  was  de- 
pressed, despondent;  he  felt  that  he  had  no  part  in 
all  that  was  going  on  in  that  house — he  felt  himself  a 
stranger  and  an  alien.  Yet,  too  generous  and  bene- 
volent to  damp  the  spirits  of  the  lads  by  his  own. 
gloom,  he  smiled  upon  them  kindly,  and  when  they 
asked  permission  to  accompany  him,  he  inquired, 
gaily,  how  it  happened  that,  while  all  were  so  very 
busy,  in  the  house  and  on  the  grounds,  they  alone 
should  be  idle.  ' 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Vivian  drives  us  out  of  the  way — even 
Hose  won't  let  us  help  her,  and  father  threatens  to  lock 
us  up  if  we  don't  keep  quiet.  We're  driven  about 
from  post  to  pillar ;  and  so  we  came  out  to  walk  with 
you.  Father  and  the  rest  of  them  making  such  a  fuss! 
just  as  if  nobody  ever  got  married  before  St.  Gerald!" 
said  Eichard,  contemptuously. 

Another  might  have  rebuked  the  boy  for  speaking 
so  disrespectfully ;  but  Mark  had  little  of  the  tutor 
spirit  in  him,  after  all.  Eosalie  was  right  in  that. 

They  left  the  piazza,  crossed  the  lawn,  and  took  the 
narrow  path  leading  along  the  course  of  the  stream — 


108  INDIA.      THE    PEAIiL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

the  boys  sometimes  affectionately  holding  his  hands, 
and  sometimes  one  or  the  other  suddenly  breaking 
away  to  pluck  and  bring  him  an  early  violet,  or 
eglantine  rose,  or  to  throw  a  pebble  in  the  stream, 
where  some  small  fish  had  started  up.  At  last — 

"  Making  such  a  fuss  !"  again  complained  Eichard ; 
"  making  such  a  fuss,  and  driving  us  about  so  that  we 
boys  can't  have  a  bit  of  peace  of  our  lives !  Just  as 
if  she  were  so  much  better  than  everybody  else  in  the 
world,  that  so  much  trouble  must  be  taken  for  her." 

"  Whom  are  you  talking  of?"  inquired  Mr.  Suther- 
land, carelessly. 

"  Why  the  young  lady  St.  Gerald  is  going  to  marry, 
to  be  sure !" 

"Ah,  then,  Mr.  Ashley  is  going  to  bring  home  a 
wife,  is  he  ?" 

"  Why,  of  course  he  is !"  said  Henry,  warming  up. 
"He  is  going  to  be  married  to  a  beautiful  young 
lady,  very  rich,  who  was  the  belle  of  the  city  last 
winter,  they  say !" 

"  Oh,  she  is  as  rich  and  as  beautiful  as  a  princess  in 
a  fairy  book ;  and  that's  what  all  the  fuss  is  about," 
sneered  Richard. 

"  Don't  you  mind  Rich,  Mr.  Sutherland ;  he  can't 
bear  to  have  a  word  said  about  anybody  but  him- 
self!" 

"As  if  I  wanted  anybody  to  bother  themselves 
about  me — I'm  not  so  much  like  you  as  {hat"  retorted 
Richard.  And  thereupon  arose  the  usual  squabble  be- 
tween the  lads,  until  their  tutor  interfered  and  restored 
order,  if  not  good  feeling. 

They  continued  their  walk  for  about  a  mile  along 


BRIDAL   PREPARATIONS.  199 

tlie  mountain  stream,  and  then  returning  by  the  back 
hills,  got  home  at  the  breakfast  hour. 

Colonel  Ashley,  Mrs.  Vivian,  and  Eose,  were  al- 
ready seated  at  the  breakfast-table,  and  engaged  in 
eager  conversation  concerning  the  approaching  mar- 
riage of  the  heir  of  the  house,  when  Mr.  Sutherland 
and  the  lads  entered. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Sutherland.  I  hope  you  have 
had  a  pleasant  walk — though  I  would  not  be  bothered 
with  those  troublesome  boys,  if  I  were  you;  their  com- 
pany is  quite  enough  in  school  hours,  I  should  think!" 
said  the  old  gentleman,  banteringly,  as  they  took  their 
places  at  the  board. 

Mrs.  Vivian  and  Rosalie  smiled  a  salutation.  And 
then  the  thread  of  the  conversation  was  taken  up 
again,  as  if  it  had  never  been  broken,  and  as  if 
Mark  Sutherland  was  already  familiar  with  the  pre- 
mises. 

"  Yes ;  St.  Gerald  writes  me  that  the  marriage  will 
come  off  at  an  early  hour  of  the  day,  and  that  imme- 
diately after  the  ceremony  they  will  set  out  from 
Washington  for  this  place.  It  will  take  them  two 
days  to  reach  here,  so  that  we  may  expect  the  party 
on  Thursday  evening.  Rosalie,  my  dear,  bear  that 
in  mind,  if  you  please,  and  be  ready.  Mrs.  Vivian, 
my  dear  lady,  I  do  not  want  two  cups  of  chocolate 
at  once — this,  I  think,  is  intended  for  Mr.  Suther- 
land!" said  the  old  gentleman,  passing  the  cup  to 
Mark. 

Mrs.  Vivian's  mind  was  certainly  absent  and  dis- 
tracted, as  her  manner  was  disconcerted,  and  her 
beautiful  countenance  troubled. 

After    breakfast,   the    family    party   separated    as 


200  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

usual.  Colonel  Ashley  went  to  his  study,  to  write 
letters ;  Mrs.  Vivian  and  Eosalie  to  their  work-table, 
in  the  parlour;  and  Mark  to  his  school-room,  with 
the  boys. 

The  ladies  had  scarcely  seated  themselves,  before  a 
servant  entered  to  say  that  Mr.  Robert  Bloomfield  had 
come  with  the  ponies,  and  wished  to  know  if  Mis.s 
Rosalie  would  ride. 

"  Don't  go,  Rose ;  send  an  excuse.  Cut  this  com- 
panionship firmly  and  kindly  off,  at  once  and  forever," 
s  nd  Mrs.  Vivian,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Tell  him,  William,  that  I  am  very  much  obliged 
for  his  kindness,  but  I  cannot  ride  to-day,"  said 
Rosalie ,  and,  as  the  servant  left  the  room,  she  added, 
"That  was  a  very  unkind,  ungrateful  message, 
mamma." 

"  Nonsense !  "What  kindness  or  gratitude  do  you 
owe  to  Robert?"  answered  the  lady,  with  an  apparent 
harshness  of  sentiment  that  her  heart  did  not  by  any 
means  justify. 

But,  before  Rosalie  could  reply  again,  Robert 
Bloomfield  entered  the  room,  flushed  and  in  haste; 
and,  without  even  seeing  Mrs.  Vivian,  hurried  up  to 
the  young  girl,  exclaiming — "Rose!  Rose!  how  is 
this  ?  Three  times  I  have  called  here,  as  usual — as  a 
matter  of  course — to  ride  with  you,  and  each  time  I 
have  been  met  by  your  servant,  and  told — I  don't 
know  what,  except  that  I  could  not  see  you,  Rose. 
Dear  Rosalie,  have  I  offended  you  in  any  way  ?  Dear 
Rosalie,  speak  to  me  I  Say!  Say,  are  you  angry 
with  me?"  he  persisted,  seeing  that  she  did  not 
answer. 


BRIDAL    PREPARATIONS.  201 

"Xo\v,  what  on  earth  should  I  be  angry  with 
you  about,  Robert  ?  Of  course,  I  am  not  angry." 

"You  are  offended  with  me.  You  are,  I  feel 
you  are — I  know  you  are;  I  see  it  in  your  face, 
Rosalie,"  he  persisted,  gazing  on  her  troubled  counte- 
nance, and  reading,  but  not  aright,  its  sorrowful  ex- 
pression. 

"Indeed,  I  am- not  displeased  with  you,  dear  Bob. 
How  could  I  possibly  be,  when  you  never  in  your  life 
gave  me  cause  for  any  other  feeling  towards  you  than 
esteem  and  thankfulness  ?" 

"'Esteem  and  thankfulness!'  I  told  you  before, 
Rosalie,  if  you  persisted  in  talking  that  way  you'd 
drive  me  out  of  my  senses !" 

Here  Mrs.  Vivian  hemmed,  to  give  notice  of  her 
presence;  and  Robert  Bloomfield  turned,  and  per- 
ceived her  for  the  first  time.  If  he  had  not  observed 
the  lady  before,  he  did  not  care  about  her  now.  He 
bowed ;  and  then,  forgetting  her,  turned,  and  resumed 
his  conversation  with  Rosalie,  in  the  same  impatient, 
impassioned  tone. 

Mrs.  Vivian,  with  a  cold,  offended  air,  arose  and 
left  the  room.  But  as  soon  as  the  door  closed  behind 
the  lady,  and  Robert  found  himself  alone  with  Rosalie, 
he  certainly  betrayed  a  great  sense  of  relief,  for  his 
manner  became  more  earnest  and  vehement,  and  he 
pleaded  anew  the  hopeless  suit  so  often  and  so  de- 
cidedly rejected.  His  tongue  was  loosened,  and  words 
flowed,  without  let  or  hindrance,  in  that  impetuous 
torrent  of  eloquence  inspired  only  by  passion ;  and 
Rosalie  listened  with  emotion  scarcely  less  than  his 
own,  for  every  word  he  uttered  gave  expression  to  the 
vague,  deep,  unspoken  yearning  of  her  own  heart. 


202     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVKK. 

She  heard  him  out  patiently;  yes,  she  let  him  be 
gin  again,  and  go  over  the  whole  matter  a  second  and 
a  third  time,  before  she  could  find  courage  to  destroy 
his  hopes.     At  last  she  said —     . 

"  I  have  deeply  wronged  you,  Robert.  I  did  not 
mean  it,  Heaven  knows ;  but  I  have  wronged  you. 
Robert,  I  am  very  sorry.  I  shall  never  forgive  my- 
self." 

"I  don't  understand  you,  Rosalie — I — do  tell  me 
what  you  mean !" 

"  I  mean  that  I  have  not  been  frank  enough  with 
you,  Robert.  I  have  not  had  the  courage,"  said  Rosa- 
lie, in  a  faltering  voice,  for  she  still  deeply  pitied  him. 

He  did  not  look  like  an  object  of  pity,  just  then;  all 
his  countenance  suddenly  brightened  with  joy.  He 
seized  her  hand,  exclaiming — "  Do  I  comprehend  ?  Do 
I  hear  you  right  ?  Do  you  mean,  after  all,  that  you 
like  me  a  little  better  than  you  said  you  did  ?" 

"No.  Oh!  Robert,  what  a  sanguine  nature  yours 
must  be,  to  interpret  every  word  which  is  not  positive, 
in  your  own  way  No,  Robert !  I  mean,  that  I  have 
thoughtlessly  accepted  all  your  kind  services,  knowing 
full  well  that  I  never,  never  can  repay  the  smallest  of 
them.  I  mean,  too,  that  I  have  let  you  tell  me,  again 
and  again,  of  your  regard,  knowing  all  the  while  that 
I  can  never,  never  return  it  in  the  way  you  wish.  I 
have  wronged  you,  by  not  telling  you  this  with  suffi- 
cent  firmness  before  !" 

"  Cruel !  cold !  hard !  heartless !" 

"It  is  my  misfortune  that  I  cannot  accept  you, 
Robert.  My  reason  is  telling  me  all  the  time,  just  as 
any  prudent  old  lady  could  tell  me — that  if  I  could 
like  you,  I  should  have  an  enviable  lot  in  life ;  not 


BRIDAL    PREPARATIONS.  203 

because  you  are  wealthy,  and  all  that,  of  course, 
Robert,  but  because  I  really  do  know  you  are — so 
good,  so  disinterested,  so  true,  and  because  your  dear 
mother  and  sisters  are  just  like  you,  and  I  could  love 
them  as  if  they  were  my  own  relatives." 

"In  mercy,  Rosalie,  why  do  you  talk  to  me  so,  if  you 
never  mean  to  accept  me  ?" 

"  Why,  indeed  ?  Because  I  cannot  reject  this  kind- 
ness, for  which  I  am  indeed  most  sincerely  grateful, 
in  any  other  but  the  humblest  manner,  and  with  every 
circumstance  to  assure  you,  that  I  feel  how  much  good 
I  reject  in  rejecting  you,  Robert.  Dear  Robert,  there 
is  certainly  destiny,  as  well  as  duty,  in  these  matters ; 
and,  well  as  I  like  you,  I  could  not  love  you  enough 
to  marry  you,  if  my  salvation  depended  on  it ;  indeed 
I  could  not.  I  am  not  destined  to  so  easy  a  life, 
Robert.  I  begin  to  have  a  foreshadowing  that  my  lot 
will  be  a  very  rough  one,  Robert ;  that  I  shall  not  be 
left  to  bask  in  the  sunshine,  but  shall  have  to  face  and 
weather  the  storm." 

"  You — you  fragile  snow-drop !  "What  do  you  mean 
now  ?  You  meet  the  storms  of  life !  Has  the  Plant- 
ers' Own  Bank  broken,  or  have  all  the  slaves  on  the 
plantation  run  off  in  a  body  ?" 

"Neither  one  nor  the  other,  Robert.  And  if  I 
'  rough  it'  in  the  world,  it  will  be  my  own  free  choice." 

"  I  confess  I  do  not  understand  you — except  that 
you  make  me  wretched ;  that  is  plain  enough,  but  as 
to  the  rest,  I  am  all  in  the  dark." 

"  It  is  my  own  secret,  Robert." 

"One  thing  I  do  know;  that  is,  you  are  too  deli- 
cate for  a  rough  life." 

"  Robert,  there  are  many  delicate  natures  that  have 


204  INDIA.      THE    PEARL    OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

been  cherished,  and  nursed,  and  petted  to  miserable 
weakness  and  death.  My  flower  garden  has  taught 
me  that  lesson." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  how  a  flower  garden  could 
teach  you  a  lesson  like  that  /" 

"Oh!  should  you?  I  can  tell  you,  then.  Last 
year,  when  I  came  here,  I  found  a  new  flower  growing 
in  the  garden.  I  don't  know  botany,  and  I  don't 
know  what  the  flower  was,  or  how  it  came  there ;  but 
I  suppose  the  wind  brought  the  seed.  My  flower  was 
so  feeble  and  withered,  that  it  had  lost  all  beauty  and 
comeliness,  and  every  charm,  except  a  delightful 
odour.  I  weeded  and  worked  around  it,  and  watered 
it  regularly,  and  nursed  and  cherished  it,  but  it  faded 
faster  and  faster,  yielding  a  dying  fragrance.  I  said 
it  was  too  exposed  and  cold,  and  I  took  it  up  and 
transplanted  it  to  the  conservatory.  There  it  wilted 
and  fell,  and  I  gave  it  up  for  lost.  But  now  mark  the 
sequel.  A  few  days  after,  I  took  a  ride  up  to  the 
mountain  top,  and  left  my  horse,  for  a  ramble  on  foot. 
A  fresh,  delicate,  delicious  odour  greeted  me.  I 
looked  about,  and  lo !  there,  in  a  cleft  of.  the  rock  on 
the  mountain  top,  where  it  would  be  exposed  to  all 
the  snow,  and  wind,  and  hail  of  winter,  and  burning 
rays  of  summer,  was  my  strange  hot-house  plant  I  There 
it  grew  and  flourished,  swaying  to  and  fro  in  the  wind, 
and  filling  all  the  air  with  the  freshness  of  its  fra- 
grance! Now  what  do  you  think  I  did,  Robert? 
You  will  laugh  at  me,  of  course,  for  everybody 
laughed.  The  very  next  day  I  took  my  poor  flower, 
that  was  dying  in  the  conservatory — and  that  I  pitied 
as  if  it  had  been  a  sick,  caged  bird — and  I  carried  it 
up  the  mountain,  and  planted  it  in  the  evening. 


THE   MEETING.  205 

Thunder  gusts  and  showers  the  next  day  prevented 
my  ride ;  but  the  third  day  I  visited  my  protege.  It 
was  living !  It-  had  plucked  up  a  spirit  and  intended 
to  live.  I  am  like  that  plant,  Kobert !  And  now,  to 
come  back  to  yourself.  We  must  part,  Robert,  as 
friends — kindly — but  not  to  meet  again,  except  as 
mere  acquaintances,  until  you  have  outgrown  the 
present  weakness  of  your  heart." 

She  extended  her  hand — he  pressed  it  to  his  lips, 
seized  his  cap,  and  hastily  left  the  house. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE     MEETING. 

"  The  staring  madness,  when  she  wakes,  to  find 
That  which  she  has  loved — must  love — is  not  that 
She  meant  to  love — 
There  is  a  desolation  in  her  eye 
He  cannot  bear  to  look  on — for  it  seems 
As  though  it  eats  the  light  out  of  his  own." — Festus. 

THE  day  at  length  came  upon  which  St.  Gerald 
Ashley  and  his  young  bride,  with  their  attendants, 
were  expected  to  arrive  at  Ashley  Hall.  Early  in  the 
afternoon,  the  carriage  had  been  sent  to  the  village 
to  meet  them;  and  in  the  evening  all  the  members  of 
the  family  were  assembled  in  the  drawing-room,  to 
await  them.  Many  of  the  country  gentry,  who  had 
been  invited  to  meet  the  bridal  party,  had  joined 
the  circle  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  and  the  rooms 
were  now  quite  full.  Among  the  guests  present  were 


206     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OP  PEARL  RIVER. 

the  Right  Honourable  W R ,  then  Governor 

of  the  State ;  Judge  M ,  of  the  Supreme  Court ; 

and  a  few  others,  high  in  state  or  national  authority, 
whose  distinguished  names  are  now  historical.  But 
there  was  no  one  present  so  proud  or  happy  as  old 
Colonel  Ashley,  who  walked  about  gently  rubbing 
his  hands,  in  the  simple  gleefulness  of  his  country 
heart  and  habits. 

The  carriage  was  behind  time ;  for  the  reason,  it 
was  rumoured,  that  the  bride  and  her  attendants  chose 
to  rest  an  hour  or  two  at  the  village.  At  length, 
however,  the  welcome  wheels  were  heard  to  roll  up 
to  the  door,  and  the  travellers  to  alight  and  enter  the 
hall.  They  retired  to  change  their  dresses  before 
entering  the  drawing-room.  In  the  meantime,  among 
the  country  neighbours  in  the  saloon,  all  was  half-sub- 
dued excitement  and  expectancy.  Among  the  com- 
pany was  Mark  Sutherland,  of  course.  He  was  not 
one  to  shade  with  his  dark  brow  the  brightness  of 
other  people's  gaiety.  In  the  social  temper  of  youih, 
he  had  sought  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  time,  and 
had  laughed  and  jested  with  the  young  people,  or 
"  talked  politics"  with  the  elders,  as  the  case  de- 
manded. He  had  heard  the  slight,  subdued  bustle  in 
the  hall,  incident  upon  the  arrival  of  the  bridal  party; 
and  the  instant  absorption  of  the  whole  heart  of  the 
assembled  company,  in  the  interest  of  the  moment, 
had  left  him  free.  He  had  stood  a  few  moments  quite 
alone  and  unobserved,  when  a  slight  tremulousness  of 
the  air  near  him,  a  slight  disturbance  of  his  own 
serenity,  caused  him  to  look  up. 

Rosalie  Vivian  was  standing  near  him,  with  a  de- 
precating, imploring  look  and  gesture.  Her  face  was 


THE   MEETING.  20*. 

white  as  the  white  crape  dress  she  wore,  and  hoi 
wreath  of  snow  drops  quivered  with  the  trembling  of 
her  frame. 

Startled  by  her  appearance,  he  asked  hurriedly — 
"  Dear  Rosalie,  has  anything  happened  ?  What  is  the 
matter  ?" 

"I  ought  to  have  told  you  before!  Some  of  us 
ought  to  have  told  you !  /  ought  to  have  done  so !" 
she  answered,  somewhat  vaguely  and  wildly. 

"  Told  me  what,  dear  Kosalie  ?     What  is  it  ?" 

"  Give  me  the  support  of  your  arm  into  the  next 
room — there  is  no  one  there." 

"  My  child,  you  are  not  well !"  said  Mark,  looking 
at  her  now  with  painful  anxiety,  as  he  drew  her  hand 
through  his  arm. 

"  I  am  not  good,  you  ought  to  say.  I  have  not  been 
good !  I  have  been  a  coward !  I  have  not  been  your 
friend,  Mark !  I  have  been  a  traitor." 

"A  traitor!     Rosalie,  you  rave !" 

"I  ought  to  have  told  you  any  time  this-  month 
past ;  but  I  could  not  bear  to  do  it.  And  now  it  is 
scarcely  any  use  at  all ;  it  is  a  mockery  to  tell  you. 
But  yet,  indeed,  I  could  not  bear  to  see  you  standing 
there,  so  gay  and  unsuspicious.  I  could  not  bear  to 
think  how  you  would  lose  your  self-command  in  her 
presence.  No,  I  could  not  endure  the  thought,  Mark !" 
she  said,  more  and  more  incoherently. 

"  Rosalie,  you  are  very  nervous ;  you  have  over- 
excited yourself  about  this  wedding.  Come,  let  me 
get  you  something,"  said  Mark,  drawing  her  gently 
through  the  crowd. 

As  they  passed,  the  buzz  of  conversation  increased 
very  much,  and  "  They  are  coming ;"  "  The  bride  is 


208  INDIA.      THE    PEARL    OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

coming;"  "There  she  is;"  "Hush,"  &c.,  were  the 
sounds  that  heralded  the  entrance  of  the  bridal  party, 
just  as  Mark  Sutherland  led  Eosalie  Vivian  into  the 
next  room.  He  took  her  to  a  sofa,  seated  her,  handed 
her  a  glass  of  water ;  but  she  waved  it  aside,  saying, 
"  I  do  not  need  it — I  do  not  need  it !  It  is  you  who 
need  strength  and  calmness  now.  O,  Mark !  I  wish 
you  had  left  the  house  when  I  advised  you  to  leave  it!" 
she  exclaimed,  her  agitation  becoming  momentarily 
greater.  At  last,  forcing  herself  to  speak  again,  she 
asked :  "  Mr.  Sutherland !  Mark !  Do  you  know 
the  name  of  the  lady  whom  St.  Gerald  Ashley  has 
married  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mark  Sutherland,  raising  his  eye- 
brows in  an  interrogative  manner. 

"  You  do !"  exclaimed  Eosalie,  greatly  surprised — 
excited. 

"  Certainly  I  do !  How  could  I  possibly  remain  in 
ignorance  of  it?" 

"You  do !  You  know  it!  And  yet  you  are  so  calm  ! 
Nay,  indeed,  I  am  afraid  you  are  mistaken ;  whom  do 
you  suppose  it  to  be  ?" 

"  One  once  betrothed  to  myself — my  cousin  India !" 

"You  know  it!  And  you  are  not  unhappy  about 
it  1  Oh,  blessed  Lord !  I  am  so  thankful — so  glad  1" 
And  Rosalie  dropped  her  face  upon  her  hands,  and 
wept  softly  and  quietly. 

"Dear  Eosalie,  has  all  this  disturbance  of  yours 
been  caused  by  your  sympathy  with  unworthy  me  ?" 

"  I  remembered  how  you  suffered  at  Cashmere — I 
feared — I  dreaded  if  you  met  her  suddenly  here — the 
bride  of  another — that"- 

"  Well,  dear  Rose  !     That" 


THE   MEETING.  209 

"  Oh,  I  fear  you  think  me  very  impertinent.  If 
you  do,  you  may  tell  me  so ;  indeed,  I  shall  not  take 
it  amiss." 

"  Tell  me  your  thought,  Rosalie.  Was  it  that  all 
those  old  wounds  would  be  re-opened  ?  That  all  those 
sufferings  would  be  renewed  ?" 

"  Yes !" 

"  Yet  you  see  that  they  are  not." 

"  No,  thank  Heaven,  Mark !  But  I  cannot  undei 
stand  it." 

"  Well,  then,  understand  it  now.  The  advent  of  my 
promised  bride,  as  the  wedded  wife  of  another,  does 
not  disturb  a  pulse  of  mine,  because,  in  my  heart — in 
any  honourable  heart — love  could  not  long  survive 
esteem,  more  than  it  could  survive  hope  or  duty,  and 

because" Here  his  whole   manner  grew  most 

earnest,  most  intense,  and  passing  his  arm  over  her 
shoulder,  he  drew  her  face  towards  his  own,  and 
kissing  away  the  tear  drops  from  her  eyes,  said,  "  Be- 
cause I  love  this  single  tear  of  true  feeling  better  than 
the  whole  heart  of  yonder  selfish  beauty !" 

And  now,  if  Mark  fancied  tears,  he  might  have  a 
plenty  of  them;  for  now  they  fell  warm  and  fast. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Rosalie  ?  Why  do  you  weep 
now  ?"  asked  Mark. 

But  she  did  not  answer.  He  repeated  the  question 
perseveringly. 

At  last,  sobbing  softly,  and  smiling,  and  sighing, 
and  blushing,  and  averting  her  face,  she  said,  archly, 
"Juliet  wept  at  what  she  was  'glad  of.'" 

"Are  you  glad,  Rosalie?    Tell  me,  dear  Rose.    Arc 
you  glad  that  I  love  you  more  than  all  the  world — 
13 


L'l<>  INDIA.      THE    PEAKL    OF    PEARL    1UVE11. 

that    I    have    chosen    you    the    guiding    star   of   my 

mo  r 

She  did  not,  could  not  answer. 

He  repeated  this  question,  also  searchingly,  perse- 
veringly,  only  to  hear  her  answer;  and  he  bent  his 
ear,  and  averted  his  eyes,  and  quelled  the  beating  of 
his  heart,  to  win  her  reply. 

At  last  it  came,  with  her  face  hidden  on  his  shoulder, 
and  in  a  tone  scarcely  above  her  breath — "  I  always 
hoped  you  would  like  me  at  last ;  I  did  not  think  you 
would  so  soon,  though." 

"But  are  you  glad — are  you  (jlwlT  persisted  the 
unreasonable  man. 

"Yes,  glad"  whispered  Rosalie;  and  in  proof  of 
her  truth  the  tears  rolled  quietly  down  her  face. 

"And  so  am  I!  Glad,  happy,  hopeful,  confident, 
Rosalie !  There  will  be  no  more  faltering,  and  faint- 
ing, and  failing  now  !  You  have  infused  new  life  into 
me.  That  any  gossamer  girl  should  have  the  power 
to  do  this !  Yet  such  is  the  case,  Rosalie." 

"Am  I  such  a  gossamer  ?" 

"You  are  very  fragile,  Rosalie." 

'• '  Out  of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life.'  " 

They  were  interrupted,  of  course;  people  always 
are  when  they  are  very  blessed.  It  does  not  suit  "the 
rest  of  mankind"  to  leave  them  so.  This  time  it  was 
old  Colonel  Ashley,  who  really  was  happy  enough  in 
himself  to  have  left  Mark  and  Rosalie  alone  in  their 
content,  if  he  had  known  it.  lie  came  in  with  a 
brisk  step,  with  his  slight  figure  seeming  slighter,  his 
grey  hair  lighter,  and  his  thin,  rosy  face  fiercer  than 
ever,  with  the  effervescence  of  his  joy.  lie  advanced, 
speaking — 


THE   MEETING.  211 

"Ah,  Mr.  Sutherland,  you  are  here!  I  have  been 
looking  for  you.  What !  will  you  be  the  last  to  pay 
your  respects  to  the  bride,  and  she  a  relative — though 
a  very  distant  one,  I  suppose,  of  your  own?  Come, 
let  me  present  you." 

"Does  India — does  Mrs.  Ashley  expect  me?"  in- 
quired Mr.  Sutherland. 

"  I  imagine  not !"  replied  the  old  gentleman,  raising 
his  eyebrows ;  "  but  that  does  not  matter,  you  know. 
Come!" 

Pressing  the  hand  of  Eosalie,  before  relinquishing 
it,  Mark  Sutherland  arose  to  accompany  Colonel  Ash- 
ley to  the  front  drawing-room,  and  to  the  presence  of 
the  bride. 

They  could  not  at  once  approach  her,  on  account 
of  the  number  of  persons  around  her ;  yet  the  room 
was  not  so  thronged  with  company  as  to  prevent  their 
having  a  full  view  of  the  bride  and  her  attendants. 

There  stood  India  receiving  the  homage  of  her 
circle — her  superb  form  arrayed  in  the  rich  and  gor- 
geous costume  that  was  so  well  adapted  to  her  ma- 
jestic and  [luxurious  style  of  beauty.  Her  cheeks 
were  mantled  with  a  rich,  high  colour,  yet  this  seemed 
not  the  carnation  bloom  of  youth  and  health,  but  the 
fire  of  a  feverish  excitement.  Her  eyes  were  dark 
and  brilliant,  yet  not  with  the  light  of  innocent  love 
and  joy,  but  with  the  blaze  of  a  burning  and  con- 
suming heart. 

"  Come,"  whispered  the  old  gentleman ;  "  it  is  no  use 
to  stand  here  waiting  our  opportunity ;  for  we  might 
stand  all  night,  and  those  fools  wouldn't  give  way. 
Poor  wretches ! — just  like  boys  peeping  at  a  gentle- 
man's conservatory,  where  they  know  they  dare  not 


212  INDIA.      THE  PEARL   OF  PEARL  RIVKll. 

touch  even  a  rose-bud.  Come,  we  must  elbow  through 
that  circle  of  dandies ;  gently,  you  know — gently." 

And  suiting  the  action  to  the  words,  Colonel  Ash- 
ley adroitly  insinuated  himself  through  the  outer 
crowd  and  through  the  nearer  circle,  and  into  the 
very  presence  of  the  bride. 

She  was  not  looking  towards  the  new-comers.  She 
was  listening  to  a  gentleman,  who,  having  apparently 
exhausted  all  other  subjects  of  adulation,  was  now  ex- 
patiating upon  the  rare  and  exquisite  beauty  of  the 
bouquet  she  held  in  her  hand. 

Colonel  Ashley  and  Mr.  Sutherland  were  before 
her. 

"  Mrs.  Ashley" 

She  looked  round. 

"  Will  you  permit  me  to  present  to  you  my  young 
friend,  Mr.  Sutherland — a  distant  relative  of  your  own, 
may  I  hope  ?" 

Mark  Sutherland  looked  up,  caught  her  eye,  and 
bowed  deeply.  But  before  he  had  had  time  to  do  so, 
before  even  the  deliberate  ceremonious  presentation 
speech  of  the  old  gentleman  was  half  over — at  the 
very  instant  she  had  turned  around,  and  her  eye  had 
fallen  upon  Mark  Sutherland — a  change,  an  appalling 
change,  had  come  over  her  lovely  face  and  form,  like 
that  which  might  be  supposed  to  sweep  over  the  face 
of  some  beautiful  and  fertile  oasis  at  the  sudden  blast 
of  the  simoom,  that  buries  all  its  luxurious  beauty  in 
the  burning  and  arid  sands  of  the  desert. 

As  by  the  sudden  smite  of  death,  all  colour  was 
dashed  out  from  her  cheek,  and  all  light  from  her 
eye.  For  a  moment  she  stood  and  gazed,  transfixed, 
unable  to  withdraw  her  stony  eyes  from  his;  then, 


THE    MEETING.  213 

with  a  sudden  cry,  as  if  some  tightly-strained  heart- 
string  had  snapped — the  tension  of  her  form  relaxed, 
and  she  fell  to  the  floor ! 

In  an  instant  all  was  confusion.  Eaised  in  the 
arms  of  her  father,  Clement  Sutherland — who,  until 
that  moment,  had  remained  obscure  in  the  back- 
ground— the  swooning  bride  was  borne  into  the  ad- 
joining room,  and  laid  upon  the  sofa,  while  resto- 
ratives were  anxiously  sought  for,  to  be  administered. 

In  the  meantime,  in  the  saloon  she  had  left,  only 
two  persons — Mark  Sutherland  and  Mrs.  Vivian — un-  . 
derstood  the  cause  of  her  fainting.  Various  innocent 
conjectures  prevailed,  far  from  the  truth.  "It  was 
the  heat  of  the  room,"  thought  one;  "Over-excite- 
ment," opined  another ;  "  Standing  so  long,"  fancied  a 
third ;  "  The  fatigue  of  her  journey,"  imagined  a 
fourth.  "  Really,  it  was  too  inconsiderate  in  Colonel 
Ashley  to  oblige  his  daughter  to  receive  company 
upon  the  very  evening  of  her  arrival,"  complained 
Mrs.  Chief  Justice  M ,  a  large,  heavy  person,  fan- 
ning herself  slowly.  "I  noticed  her  face  was  very 
pale,"  said  a  sympathetic  lady,  drawing  upon  her  im- 
agination for  her  facts.  "Indeed!  but  I  thought  it 
was  very  flushed,"  interrupted  a  matter-of-fact  indi- 
vidual. 

All  these  various  conjectures  were  expressed  in 
low,  almost  inaudible  tones ;  while,  undisturbed  and 
smiling,  Mrs.  Vivian  passed  among  the  company,  and, 
as  it  were,  moved  upon  the  troubled  waters  of  their 
half-suppressed  excitement,  and,  with  her  mere  smile 
of  self-possession,  restoring  calmness  and  order. 

Presently  the  door  of  the  inner  room  opened,  and 
the  bride  reappeared,  leaning  lightly  upon  the  arm  of 


214  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

her  father,  and  attended  by  her  husband  and  brides- 
maids. She  entered,  and  passed  up  the  saloon  to  her 
former  position.  Several  country  gentlemen  zealously 
drew  forward  a  cushioned  chair,  and  several  sympa- 
thetic old-fashioned  ladies  approached,  with  inquiries 
and  expressions  of  condolence. 

Pale  and  weary,  but  smiling  and  self-possessed, 
Mrs.  Ashley  gracefully  accepted  the  services  of  the 
former,  and  replied  to  the  interested  questions  and 
comments  of  the  latter. 

"  It  was  very  ill-judged  on  the  part  of  the  Colonel, 
my  dear,  to  subject  you  to  the  fatigue  of  a  reception, 
just  off  your  journey — very  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Chief 
Justice  M . 

"  I  do  really  think  we  ought  to  exercise  the  good 
taste  of  retiring,"  whispered  another. 

Whether  India  heard  this  remark  or  not,  she  an- 
swered— 

"  I  am  not  fatigued.  We  made  but  a  very  short 
stage  to  day,  and  rested  several  hours  at  the  next  vil- 
lage. No;  it  was  the  warmth  and  closeness  of  the 
room.  The  windows  are  open  now,  and  the  effect 
has  gone  with  the  cause,"  she  added,  smiling  brightly, 
while  at  the  same  moment  the  consciousness  of  the 
first  falsehood  she  had  ever  uttered  in  her  life  brought 
a  warm  though  transient  blush  to  her  cheek,  that  re- 
sembled the  returning  glow  of  strength,  and  reassured 
all  doubt. 

After  a  little,  the  musicians  began  to  touch  their 
instruments,  and  soon  struck  up  a  lively  quadrille  air. 
The  younger  portion  of  the  company  gave  signs  of 
restlessness.  Gentlemen  hesitated,  and  then  chose  their 
partners  for  the  set,  and  remained  awaiting  the  mo- 


THE    MEETING.  215 

tions  of  Mrs.  Ashley.  As  hostess,  it  was  her  right  to 
select  any  gentleman  present  to  honour  with  her  hand 
for  the  quadrille ;  and  as  bride,  it  was  her  privilege  to 
lead  off  the  dance. 

When  India  became  aware  that  all  were  waiting  for 
her,  she  threw  her  eyes  over  the  assembly ;  and  the 
aspiring  heart  of  many  a  youth  beat  faster  when  their 
beams  lingered  for  an  instant  on  him.  But  he  for 
whom  she  looked  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  At  last,  a 
smile  of  scorn  and  self -scorn  writhed  swiftly  athwart 
her  lips,  and  her  eyes  suddenly  blazed  as  their  light 
kindled  upon  the  form  of  one  who  came  in  at  the 
farthest  door.  Quick  as  lightning  flashed  and  fled  the 
spasm  of  that  face,  leaving  it  serene  and  smiling,  as 
she  arose  and  met  the  new-comer,  and  said  sweetly — 

"  My  cousin  Mark,  will  you  honour  me  ?" 

And  before  the  astonished  man  could  bow,  she  had 
placed  her  hand  in  his,  and  he  found  himself  by  her 
side,  at  the  head  of  a  set  that  instantly  formed  around 
them. 

India  spoke  and  smiled  with  her  usual  charming 
ease,  and  danced  with  her  usual  grace  and  dignity. 

And  after  the  dance  was  finished,  and  her  partner 
had  led  her  to  her  seat,  she  detained  him  near  her, 
toying  with  her  fan  or  bouquet,  talking  of  a  thousand 
nothings.  She  presented  him  to  her  husband ;  and 
Mark  Sutherland,  of  course,  politely  expressed  him- 
self pleased  to  form  the  personal  acquaintance  of  one 
with  whose  public  life  and  services  he  had  been  so 
long  familiar,  &c. 

Throughout  the  long  evening,  India  maintained  a 
regnant  self-control.  And  Mark  Sutherland  wondered 
&  the  seeming  inconsistency  of  her  conduct.  He  did 


216  INDIA.       THE   PEARL    OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

not  know,  or  he  did  not  reflect,  that  in  the  first  in- 
stance of  surprise,  her  nerves  had — so  to  speak — got 
the  start  of  her  will,  and  so  betrayed  her ;  but  that 
after  once  the  will  had  regained  the  ascendancy  over 
the  nerves,  it  was  able  to  control  them. 

Not  again  that  evening  did  Mark  Sutherland  find 
an  opportunity  to  speak  with  Rosalie.  India  detained 
him  at  her  side,  smiling,  chatting,  and  in  her  daring 
audacity  carrying  back  their  recollections  into  scenes 
and  times  and  places  that  suggested  the  parallel  of 
taking  lighted  candles  among  open  casks  of  camphine 
or  gunpowder.  Her  indifference  was  too  well  attested 
to  be  genuine.  But  Mark  Sutherland's  perfect  calm- 
ness— real  and  thorough,  as  hers  was  assumed  and 
superficial — assisted  her. 

The  drama  of  the  evening  was  at  last  over.  The 
company  had  departed,  the  lights  were  out,  and  India 
.found  herself,  for  a  few  moments,  alone  in  her 
chamber.  She  had  smiled,  and  glanced,  and  chatted, 
and  charmed  all  eyes  and  ears  to  the  last.  She  had 
gained  the  privacy  of  her  chamber — she  had  angrily, 
then  fiercely,  rejected  the  services  of  her  attendant, 
and  turned  her  from  the  room.  And  now,  for  the 
moment,  she  was  alone  and  free — the  acting  all  was 
over — the  mask  might  be  laid  aside — the  miserable 
victim  of  pride  might  seem  the  wretch  she  really  was. 

And  oh !  the  fearful  change  that  came  over  that 
beautiful  but  agonized  face  when  the  mask  of  smiles 
fell  I  She  threw  herself,  all  robed,  and  gemmed,  and 
wreathed,  as  she  was,  prostrate  upon  the  bed — her 
form  convulsed,  her  bosom  heaving  with  the  suffo- 
cating anguish,  v<hich,  from  its  very  excess  could  not 
be  vented. 


ROSALIE.  217 

"  False !  false !  false !"  she  wailed.  "  False  to  Mark  ! 
false  to  my  husband  !  falser  than  all,  to  myself!  Lost ! 
lost !  lost !  Lost,  body,  soul,  and  spirit !  Would  that 
I  could  die  1" 

A  light,  gay  footstep  on  the  stairs,  a  low,  love-tuned 
voice  near  the  door,  and  it  opened,  and  St.  Gerald 
'Ashley  entered,  with  a  smile  of  confiding  affection  on 
his  noble  face. 

How  will  that  erring  woman  meet  his  manly,  trust- 
ing love? 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

ROSALIE. 
"And  I  am  blessed,  to  my  mind." — E.  B.  Browning. 

ROSALIE'S  content  was  undisturbed  and  perfect. 
She  had  not  witnessed  India's  fainting.  She  knew 
of  it,  but  ascribed  it,  as  others  did,  to  fatigue,  heat, 
and  over-excitement.  She  never  once  associated  the 
swoon  of  the  bride  with  the  meeting  with  her  former 
lover.  It  is  true  she  had  dreaded  this  meeting,  for 
the  sake  of  Mark,  who,  she  feared,  still  cherished  an 
affectic  n  for  India ;  but  she  had  no  such  fears  for  her. 
She  could  not  have  imagined — the  simple  integrity 
of  her  heart  shielded  her  from  imagining — that  India 
could  have  given  her  hand  to  one  man,  while  cherish- 
ing a  thenceforth  guilty  preference  for  another.  Of 
course,  she  had  heard  and  read  of  ladies  who  dese- 
crated marriage  by  making  a  legal  sale  of  themselves 


218  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

for  money,  rank,  or  convenience ;  but  then  such  were 
ladies  of  society,  ladies  of  the  great  world — not  high- 
hearted women,  not  women  of  noble  smtiments,  like 
her  friend  India,  who,  if  she  were  fickle,  was  at  least 
truthful,  even  in  her  fickleness.  No ;  the  thought  of 
India,  while  the  wife  of  another,  still  loving  Mark,  and 
fainting  at  his  sudden  appearance,  never  entered  the 
girl's  mind.  She  heard  and  entirely  believed  India's 
own  explanation  of  her  swoon — "  the  closeness  of  the 
room" — and  so,  undisturbed  by  the  suspicion  of  that 
suffering  near  her,  which,  had  she  known  it,  would 
have  greatly  troubled  her  peace,  Rosalie  yielded  up 
her  soul  to  serene  joy.  That  night  in  her  prayers  she 
returned  earnest  thanks  for  the  happiness  accorded 
her.  She  sought  her  pillow  in  the  fulness  of  content. 
Mark  loved  her !  beyond  this,  she  did  not  care  to  ask 
or  hope  any  earthly  good.  Mark  loved  her !  this  was 
happiness  enough  for  one  long  season.  Mark  loved 
her  !  the  thought  enveloped  her  soul  in  a  benign  sense 
of  perfect  protection,  safety,  and  comfort.  Mark  loved 
her !  the  thought  was  perfect  peace.  Wrapped  in  it, 
she  sweetly  fell  asleep. 

She  awoke  in  the  morning,  with,  a  vague  impression 
of  a  great  happiness  sleeping  in  her  heart.  Suddenly, 
with  a  shock  of  electric  joy,  she  remembered  what  it 
was — Mark  loved  her !  Again,  in  her  morning  wor- 
ship, she  offered  up  fervent  thanksgiving  for  this 
priceless  boon  of  love ;  and  after  she  had  made  her 
simple  morning  toilet,  she  left  her  room,  and  went 
down  stairs.  Her  self-assumed  domestic  duties  claimed 
attention ;  but  still  the  light  of  her  inward  joy  bright- 
ened all  her  countenance. 

Colonel  Ashley,  always  an  early  riser,  was  in  tho 


ROSALIE.  219 

hall  when  she  descended.  He  met  her,  smiling.  She 
was  smiling,  too. 

"  Well,  my  bonny  girl !"  he  said,  "  spite  of  late 
hours,  our  mountain  breezes  are  beginning  to  make 
the  roses  bloom  on  your  cheeks.  You  look  very 
pretty  this  morning !" 

"  Well,"  said  Rosalie,  "  how  long  am  I  to  keep  the 
keys,  or  when  am  I  to  deliver  them  up  to  Madame 
Vepouse?" 

"  Ah !  I  don't  know.  How  should  I  ?  You  must 
settle  that  between  you.  In  a  few  days,  I  suppose. 
Ask  your  pretty  little  mamma ;  she  is  likely  to  know 
such  points  of  domestic  etiquette.  Madam  does  not 
look  very  much  like  the  material  of  which  Virginia 
housewives  are  composed,  I  must  say.  I  fear,  little 
girl,  that  you  will  still  have  to  carry  the  keys." 

"  Now,  you  know,  uncle,  if  I  am  to  have  all  the 
duties  of  housekeeper,  without  the  dignities  of  mis- 
tress, I  intend  to  demand  a  salary  for  my  services.  Do 
you  hear  ?" 

"  And  you  shall  have  it,  my  dear — ten  kisses  a  day. 
Will  that  suit  you?" 

Rosalie  laughed  and  left  him. 

It  was  yet  early  in  the  morning,  and  she  went  to 
"see  after"  breakfast.  Her  first  visit  was  to  her  diary, 
to  have  the  new  milk  strained,  and  the  old  milk 
skimmed,  and  the  cream  and  butter  iced  and  brought 
out  for  breakfast.  Then  she  sent  two  little  negro  girls 
into  the  garden,  to  gather  raspberries — a  necessary 
luxury  in  its  season  on  a  country  breakfast  table. 
Then  she  went  into  the  cellar,  to  select  the  fresh  fish 
and  game  and  oysters  that  had  been  kept  in  ice. 
Then  went  to  the  pantry,  to  give  out  coffee,  tea,  cho- 


220  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL  RIVER. 

colate,  sugar,  &c.  Then  to  the  plate  and  china  closet, 
to  "parade"  the  best  Sevres  breakfast  service  and  the 
family  plate,  in  honour  of  the  occasion.  Her  next 
visit  was  to  the  breakfast  room,  to  see  that  the  table 
was  well  arranged.  "  I  wonder,  after  all,  if  India  will 
like  to  spend  two  hours  of  the  early  morning  in  this 
manner,  instead  of  lounging  them  away  over  her  own 
elegant  toilet,"  said  Eosalie  to  herself,  as  she  passed 
into  the  room.  Finding  all  in  order  here,  the  busy 
little  housewife  passed  next  into  that  pleasant  room 
hear  the  kitchen  and  the  pantry,  and  fronting  upon 
the  garden,  and  devoted  to  the  picking  of  vegetables 
and  fruit,  and  such  little  half- horticultural,  half-culi- 
nary pursuits.  Here  she  found  her  two  little  black 
handmaids,  with  their  baskets  of  raspberries,  waiting 
for  her.  She  praised  their  diligence  and  took  the 
raspberries,  and  was  engaged  in  putting  them  in  cut- 
glass  dishes,  and  powdering  them  with  sugar,  when 
she  felt  a  light  hand  laid  upon  her  shoulder,  and, 
glancing  around,  she  saw  Mark'  Sutherland  standing 
behind  her,  smiling  upon  her.  A  sudden  bright 
blush  suffused  her  beautiful  countenance;  but  she 
exclaimed,  saucily — 

"  Not  even  the  grace  of  Paul  Pry,  to  say,  '  I  hope  I 
don't  intrude.' " 

"  You  know  you  gave  me  the  freedom  of  this  room 
long  ago,  little  housekeeper." 

"  A  privilege  which  men  like  you  seem  inclined  to 
abuse,"  answered  Rosalie,  glancing  at  her  gingham 
gown,  holland  apron,  and  turned-up  sleeves. 

"  Beautiful  in  that  also,  Rosalie.  What  a  charming 
little  peasant  you  make!" 

"  I  think  so  too,"  said  Rose,  ingenuously ;  and  then, 


ROSALIE.  221 

blushing  and  laughing,  she  suddenly  corrected  herself, 
saying,  "  Oh!  I  did  not  mean  that;  I  meant  I  like 
this  dress  and  this  occupation,  and  think  they  suit  me 
perhaps  as  well  as  any  other." 

"  Shall  I  help  you  with  this  also,  Eosalie  ?"  said 
Mark,  taking  up  a  sugar-duster. 

"  Oh,  no,  thank  you  !  I  have  nearly  done.  If  you 
want  employment,  you  may  go  into  the  garden  and 
select  a  bouquet  of  the  sweetest  half-blown  white  rose 
buds  and  heliotrope  that  you  can  find,  as  a  morning 
offering  to  our  bride." 

"  And  for  you,  a  posy  of  heartsease,"  he  answered 
meaningly,  pressing  her  fingers  as  he  went. 

Rosalie  finished  her  fruit,  ornamenting  the  edges 
of  the  dishes  with  fresh  green  leaves,  and  sent  them  to 
the  table.  Then  she  went  and  changed  her  dress  for 
breakfast ;  and  when  Mark  returned  from  the  garden, 
he  found  her  standing  in  the  hall  waiting  for  him. 

She  was  looking  very  lovely,  in  her  fresh  white 
muslin  morning  dress,  without  any  ornament,  but  her 
own  soft  brown  ringlets,  and  the  bright  blush  and 
smile  lighted  by  happiness. 

"Here  they  are,  sweetheart!"  he  said,  gaily  and 
fondly  showing  the  flowers. 

"  An  elegant  bouquet  for  the  bride !"  she  exclaimed 
admiringly. 

"  And  a  sweet  little  posy  for  you,"  he  said,  placing 
the  heartsease  on  her  bosom. 

"II  est  a propos,  riest  cc pas?" 

"It  is  fit." 

"  Ouif     Comme  ilfaut,  Monsieur?" 

"  It  is  faultless." 


222  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

•'Do  you  mean  to  say  you  won't  talk  French  with 
me,  Mark  ?" 

"  I  mean  only  to  show  you,  as  long  as  you  speak  it 
to  me,  that  there  is  not  a  word  or  phrase  in  that  fash- 
ionable and  hackneyed  language,  that  has  not  a  shorter, 
stronger,  and  more  expressive  synonym  in  our  own 
mother  tongue.  There  is  no  language  for  true  thought 
and  strong  feeling  like  our  earnest  English.  But,  my 
Rose !  even  English  has  no  word  to  tell  how  much  I 
love  you — how  dear  you  are  to  me !  All  last  evening, 
occupied,  monopolized  as  I  was,  sometimes  for  a 
moment  I  would  forget  you,  and  then  your  image 
would  return  to  me  with — how  shall  I  say  it  ? — how 
express  it  ? — with  such  a  thrill  of  life  and  joy  as  I 
never  felt  before;  an  emotion  purer,  higher,  more 
blissful  than  I  ever  knew  before.  But,  Rose  !  my 
rose  !  will  this  dream  fade  also  ?  Must  I  wake,  to  find 
that  you  cannot  go  with  me  through  the  rough  paths 
of  life,  up  which  my  footsteps  have  to  toil  ?" 

"No,  Mark!  No — unless  you  will  it  so.  Believe  in 
me,  for  I  am  true.  'Whither  thou  goest,  I  will  go;  and 
where  thou  lodgest,  I  will  lodge ;  thy  people  shall  be 
my  people,  and  thy  God  my  God ;  and  the  Lord  do  so 
to  me,  and  more  also,  if  aught  but  death  part  me  and 
thee,'  "  she  said  earnestly. 

There  was  earnest  honour  as  well  as  deep  affection 
in  the  broken  words  wherewith  he  blessed  her,  as  he 
led  her  back  into  the  parlour  where  all  the  family 
were  now  assembled. 


DISCORD  ANCEi?.  223 

CHAPTER   XV. 

DISCORDANCES. 

"But  here  upon  this  earth  below, 
There's  not  a  spot  where  thou  and  I 
Together  for  an  hour  could  breathe." — Byron. 

It  was  impossible  that  the  discordant  elements  of 
social  life  assembled  at  Ashley  Hall  could  harmonize 
for  an  instant.  Of  the  family  party  gathered  around 
the  breakfast  table,  the  pale,  beautiful  India  assumed 
a  mask  of  smiles — Mr.  Ashley  wore  a  look  of  anxious 
perplexity  he  did  not  care  to  hide — Mark  Sutherland 
appeared  self-possessed,  but  was  too  conscious  to  feel 
really  at  ease.  Colonel  Ashley  was  secretly  annoyed, 
to  find  the  re-union  around  the  breakfast  table  not 
quite  so  cheerful  as  might  have  been  expected.  Mrs. 
Vivian  was  vexed  at  the  general  tacit  antagonism,  and 
resolved,  if  this  should  last,  to  bring  her  visit  to  a 
close  as  soon  as  possible.  Nevertheless,  she  kept  up 
an  irregular  fire  of  wit  and  repartee,  to  prevent  the 
party  falling  into  dead  silence.  Kosalie  alone  was 
truly  at  ease.  She  was  totally  ignorant  of  any  cause 
of  disunion  in  the  circle,  and  too  much  absorbed  in  her 
own  infinite  content,  to  notice  signs  of  disturbance 
among  those  around  her. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  the  little  lady  drew 
Rosalie  oft'  into  the  piazza,  and  away  up  to  the  honey- 
suckle-shaded end,  where  no  one  was  likely  to  come 
but  the  honey  bees. 

"And  now,  Rose,'1  she  asked,  ''what  is  it?     Your 


224    INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEAEL  RIVER. 

eyes  have  poured  streams  of  light  all  breakfast  time, 
like  sun  glances ;  they  have  projected  rays  wherever 
they  have  fallen.  Now  what  is  it  all  about  ?" 

"  One  should  be  merry  in  wedding  times !" 

"Merry  in  wedding  times!  Look  here,  Rosalie! 
Some  marriages  are  made  in  heaven,  some  on  earth, 
and  some — in  the  oilier  place.  But  it  was  not  merri- 
ment, but  profound,  still  joy,  that  lighted  your  eyes, 
Rose!  Now,  what  was  it  all  about?" 

"Mark  loves  me,  mamma!"  whispered  the  girl, 
hiding  her  face  upon  her  step-mother's  shoulder. 

"  Now,  that's  the  most  absurd  thing  I  ever  heard 
in  all  my  life !"  exclaimed  the  little  lady,  shoving  her 
off,  and  walking  rapidly  away  with  a  highly-flushed 
cheek. 

Rosalie  knew  her  too  well,  and  trusted  her  too 
thoroughly,  to  feel  any  anxiety.  She  walked  behind 
her,  put  her  arms  around  her  waist,  and,  bending  for- 
ward, looked  up  smilingly  into  her  eyes. 

"  You  needn't  think  to  get  the  better  of  me  that 
way,  Rose!  It  is  ridiculous,  I  say!  What  do  you 
mean  to  do  with  this  love  ?" 

Rose  folded  both  hands  over  her  bosom  with  a  look 
of  unspeakable  content.  Both  look  and  gesture  were 
involuntary. 

"Aye,  hoard  it  away,  treasure  it  deep  in  your 
heart,  I  suppose  you  mean.  Silly  girl !  Well,  what 
is  to  be  the  end  of  it  all  ?  What  practical  object  do 
you  propose  to  yourself?  When  ever  do  you  expect 
to  be  married?" 

"  Whenever  Mark  asks  me,  mamma!" 

"It  is  just  madness!"  exclaimed  the  lady,  impa- 
tiently ;  '•  he  has  not  a  dollar !'' 


DISCORDANCES.  225 

"  Yes,  he  has !     All  that  I  have,  mamma !" 

"  All  that  you  have !  Do  you  imagine  for  an  in- 
stant that  your  guardian  will  give  up  one  cent  of  your 
property  during  your  minority?  No;  he  will  even 
stop  your  allowance  if  you  become  the  wife  of  Mark 
Sutherland!-" 

"Why  should  he  do  that?  It  would  be  very 
unjust!"  said  Rosalie,  raising  her  eyebrows  with 
surprise.  "It  would  be  unnatural!  monstrous!  My 
guardian,  Mark's  own  uncle!  Oh!  surely,  having 
discarded  him,  he  will  not  pursue  him  with  perse- 
cutions." 

"Will  he  not?" 

"  No,  I  will  never  believe  it !" 

"  He  will  fill  up  the  measure  of  his  animosity — be- 
lieve that !  Clement  Sutherland  did  not  appear  at  the 
breakfast  table  this  morning.  Can  you  not  surmise 
the  cause  ?  He  has  many  bad  reasons  for  hating  his 
nephew.  He  hates  him  for  his  political  opinions,  for 
his  principles,  and,  more  than  all,  for  having  had  the 
power  to  give  up  the  beautiful  India.  Clement  Suther- 
land worships  his  beautiful  daughter;  and  he  hates 
Mark  for  not  having  laid  upon  her  shrine  the  most 
precious  jewel  of  his  soul — his  integrity.  And  now, 
with  the  opposition  of  your  guardian,  who  is  invested 
with  such  power  over  your  fortune,  what  have  you  to 
expect  in  giving  yourself  to  Mark  Sutherland  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know ;  I  shall  leave  it  all  to  Mark.  It  is 
no  conditional  promise  I  have  given  him — no  half- 
faith  I  have  pledged  him.  I  have  given  him  the  full 
and  complete  control  of  my  destiny.  I  could  not 
help  it.  All  that  was  within  me-  heart,  and  soul, 
and  spirit — sprang  to  him  when  he  Called  me.  Mam- 

u 


226  INDIA.      THE   PEAKL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

ma,  it  is  a  word  often  abused,  but  at  this  moment  my 
soul  throws  it  irresistibly  upon  my  lips — I  ndore  Mark ! 
And  now,  amidst  opposition,  persecution,  desertion, 
he  must  know  that  there  is  one  who  will  follow  where- 
ever  he  leads — one  heart  that  will  cleave  to  him,  in 
joy  and  in  sorrow,  in  life  and  in  death." 

At  that  very  instant  the  boy  brought  the  mail-bag, 
intruded  upon  them,  and  handed  Mrs.  Vivian  a  letter. 
As  soon  as  her  glance  fell  upon  the  superscription, 
her  face  flushed  to  the  forehead,  and,  for  the  moment 
forgetful  of  Rosalie,  she  hastened  to  read  it. 

While  this  confidential  conversation  was  going  on 
between  the  young  step- mother  and  her  daughter, 
another  scene,  portentous  with  fate,  transpired  in  the 
study  of  Colonel  Ashley.  As  that  gentleman  was 
leaving  the  breakfast-room,  a  message  was  brought 
him  from  Mr.  Clement  Sutherland,  desiring  the  favour 
)f  a  few  moments'  private  conversation  with  him. 
Oolonel  Ashley  returned  word  that  he  would  be  pleased 
to  see  Mr.  Sutherland  in  his  study.  Thither  he  imme- 
diately proceeded,  and  thither  soon  followed  his  guest. 

Clement  Sutherland  entered,  with  a  forbidding  and 
foreboding  scowl  upon  his  brow. 

Colonel  Ashley  instantly  arose,  set  a  chair,  and  in- 
vited him  to  be  seated. 

Clement  Sutherland,  without  unbending  the  stern- 
ness of  his  features,  bowed,  and  sat  down. 

"I  trust  you  are  in  good  health  this  morning,  Mr. 
Sutherland,"  said  the  Colonel,  urbanely. 

"I  am  well,  sir,"  replied  his  guest,  coldly. 

"I  was  sorry  to  miss  you  at  the  breakfast  table  this 
morning.  I  trust  my  little  girl  made  you  comfortable 
in  your  own  apartment?" 


DISCORDANCES.  227 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

Colonel  Ashley  was  silenced  and  repelled  for  a  little 
while  by  this  churlishness  oa  the  part  of  his  inter- 
locutor; but,  speedily  recollecting  that  it  was  his  guest 
who  had  sought  this  interview,  he  inquired  with  some 
reserve  of  manner — 

"Can  I  be  so  happy  as,  to  serve  you  in  any  way  this 
morning,  Mr  Sutherland  ?" 

"  Who  recommended  that  young  man  whom  you 
have  engaged  as  a  tutor?"  asked  Clement  Sutherland, 
curtly. 

Now,  Colonel  Ashley  might  well  have  been  pro- 
voked by  the  abruptness  of  this  question  to  make 
some  unpleasant  answer,  but  Colonel  Ashley  was  a 
gentleman  and  a  host.  He  replied  with  the  utmost 
courtesy,  yet  in  a  manner  that  administered  the  keenest 
and  most  delicate  rebuke.  Looking  at  his  guest,  he 
said,  slowly  and  with  meaning,  "His  name  recom- 
mended him,  Mr.  Sutherland." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  feared.  That  is  the  one  thing, 
unhappily,  of  which  we  cannot  deprive  him,  and 
makes  us,  in  some  degree,  responsible  for  him.  Pray, 
sir,  did  you  know  anything  of  this  young  man's  past 
history  ?" 

"Nothing." 

"You  fancied  him  a  relative  of  ours?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  Now,  then,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  give  me  your 
attention  for  a  few  minutes  ?" 

Colonel  Ashley  settled  himself  in  an  attitude  of  fixed 
interest,  and  Clement  Sutherland  commenced  a  narra- 
tion of  some  considerable  length,  which,  at  its  close, 
left  Mark  Sutherland  with  the  character  of  a  graceless 


228  INDIA.      THE  PEARL   OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

son,  a  faithless  lover,  an  unprincipled  man,  and  a  mad 
reformer. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  in  conclusion,  "  you  should  not  give 
him  house-room  for  an  hour !  He  will  pervert  ycfur 
children,  steal  the  heart  of  your  niece,  sow  fatal  dis- 
sension between  your  son  and  his  wife,  and  incite  your 
servants  to  revolt !"  » 

Colonel  Ashley  went  through  all  the  degrees  of 
incredulity,  doubt,  perplexity,  and  alarm,  exclaiming, 
"  I  should  never  have  believed  it  of  him !  He  does 
not  look  at  all  like  an  incendiary !" 

"  Sir,  an  incendiary  does  not  parade  his  combustible 
matter  before  your  eyes,  and  look  like  he  was  going  to 
fire  your  house !" 

"  He  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be  at  all  dangerous." 

"  Sir,  dangerous  people  never  seem  dangerous." 

"  I  rather  liked  the  young  gentleman,  I  confess," 
said  Colonel  Ashley,  slowly  and  hesitatingly. 

"Sir,  would  you  like  your  children  to  imbibe  revo- 
lutionary principles  ?  Would  you  like  your  servants 
incited  to  revolt?  Would  you  like  an  estrangement 
and  separation  brought  about  between  your  son  and 
daughter-in-law  ?  Would  you  like  your  niece  to  elope 
with  a  fanatic  ?" 

"  Mr.  Sutherland,  I  must  say  that  you  shock  me 
beyond  endurance.  You  ruthlessly  grasp  subjects 
that  a  man  of  honour  and  delicacy  scarcely  likes  to 
touch.  You  have  dealt  severely  with  the  young  nan, 
also,  in  your  speech.  He  may  be  an  enthusiast — en- 
thusiasm is  a  fault  appertaining  to  youth  and  genius 
— and,  moreover,  persecution  is  not  at  all  to  my  taste; 
it  is  always  the  growth  of  cowardice.  I  am  as  far 
ir,un  tlic  spirit  of  persecution  «is  T  am  from  tho  spirit 


DISCORDANCES.  229 

of  fear.  I  do  not  fear  that  my  children  will  be  per- 
verted, my  negroes  maddened,  my  niece  infatuated,  or 
my  son  and  his  wife  divorced,  by  the  presence  of  this 
high-souled  but  mistaken  young  gentleman  in  my 
family.  I  told  you  that  I  liked  Mr.  Mark  Sutherland, 
and  I  cannot  hate  him  to  order.  Nevertheless,  as  it 
is  not  expedient  that  one  formerly  betrothed  of  Mrs. 
Ashley  should  be  here  to  annoy  her  by  his  presence, 
I  will  see  the  young  gentleman,  and  arrange  the  speedy 
termination  of  our  engagement." 

Mr.  Clement  Sutherland  expressed  himself  satisfied, 
arose  and  left  the  room. 

Colonel  Ashley  remained  with  his  head  upon  his 
chest,  in  an  attitude  of  serious  thought,  for  a  few 
minutes ;  then,  pulling  the  bell-rope,  he  summoned  a 
servant. 

"  Go,"  he  said  to  the  man  that  entered,  "and  request 
Mr.  Mark  Sutherland  to  favour  me  with  his  company 
here  for  a  few  moments." 

The  messenger  went  out,  and  in  search  of  the  tutor. 

Meanwhile,  Mark  Sutherland  was  in  his  own  room, 
engaged  in  reading  a  letter  that  had  arrived  by  the 
morning's  mail.  It  was  from  his  old  college  friend, 
Lauderdale.  It  was  a  very  long  letter,  being  the  first 
that  he  had  written  to  Mark  Sutherland  for  more  than 
two  years.  He  began  by  reproaching  Mark  for 
dropping  the  correspondence,  and  leaving  him  in  igno- 
rance of  his  whereabouts.  He  next  informed  his  friend 
that  he  owed  his  knowledge  of  his  present  residence 
to  a  happy  accident — namely,  to  information  given 
him  by  a  fair  lady  with  whom  he  had  been  so  fortunate 
as  to  maintain  an  epistolary  correspondence ;  that  he 
expected  soon  to  arrive  at  Ashley  Hall,  on  a  visit  to 


'2W  INDIA.      THE    PEARL    OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

this  fair  friend,  from  whom  he  had  received  an  invi- 
tation. (Here  a  jealous  pang  shot  through  the  heart 
of  the  reader.)  "  A  fair  friend" — might  that  be  Rosa- 
lie? Had  she  kept  up  a  constant  correspondence  with 
Lauderdale  ?  And  had  she  even  invited  him  to  the 
house?  He  could  not  endure  the  suspicion  for  a 
moment.  No,  not  even  if  it  were  only  a  cool,  friendly 
correspondence.  He  could  not  endure  that  Rose 
should  be  on  friendly  terms  with  any  man  except 
himself.  He  read  on.  The  letter  proceeded  to  tell 
him  all  that  had  befallen  the  writer  since  he  had  last 
written;  how  he  had  settled  in  a  \Vestern  country 
town ;  how,  after  some  difficulty,  he  had  been  admitted 
to  the  bar,  and  how  he  had  already  got  into  a  toler- 
ably lucrative  practice.  Finally  came  the  most  start- 
ling news  of  all — viz.,  that  two  months  previous,  he — 
L.  Lauderdale,  Esq. — had  come  into  the  possession  of 
an  estate  of  sixty  thousand  dollars,  by  the  demise  of 
his  godfather,  a  widower  without  children  or  near 
relatives,  and  who,  dying,  bequeathed  to  him  the 
whole  of  his  considerable  property.  "  I  do  not  fully 
realize  this  event,  dear  Mark,"  he  wrote;  "I  cannot 
realize  my  personal  interest  in  it.  All  I  do  feel — but 
that  is  much,  that  is  everything — is  that  now  I  may 
go  to  Ashley  Hall,  and  lay  myself  and  my  fortune  at 
the  feet  of  my  fair  friend,  the  beautiful  widow,  Mrs. 
Vivian." 

Mark  took  a  long,  deep  breath. 

"  What  do  you  want,  sir  ?"  he  said,  looking  up,  and 
for  the  first  time  seeing  Colonel  Ashley's  servant 
standing  in  the  room. 

man  delivered  his  message,  and  Mark  promised 


DISCORDANCES.  231 

«. 

to  attend  Colonel  Ashley  soon,  and  dismissed  the  mes- 
senger. 

He  resumed  his  letter.  There  was  little  more  to  be 
read,  but  that  little  was  full  of  fate. 

"  It  matters  not  to  me,  now,  dear  Mark,  what 
quarter  of  the  country  I  live  in.  That  shall  be  de- 
cided by  the  will  of  my  fair  queen,  Valeria.  One 
thing  is  certain — this  'law  shop'  and  this  village  must 
be  given  up.  My  evacuation  of  the  premises  will 
leave  a  fair  opening  for  any  enterprising  young  gen- 
tleman who  may  choose  to  fill  it.  What  say  you  ? 
If  you  are  still  '  seriously  inclined'  to  the  ingenious 
profession  of  the  law,  let  me  know.  If  you  are  dis- 
posed to  step  into  my  shoes,  you  will  find  them  not 
much  worn,  with  not  even  the  gloss  off,  only  the  creak 
and  harshness  taken  out  of  them  a  little.  Think  this 
over,  so  as  to  be  able  to  give  an  answer,  by  the  time 
I  see  you.  You  may  expect  me  soon." 

Full  of  thought,  Mark  Sutherland  folded  up  his 
letter,  and  went  to  the  study  of  Colonel  Ashley. 

The  old  gentleman  received  him  with  a  degree  of 
kindness  almost  paternal.  He  arose  and  took  his 
hand,  and  requested  him  to  be  seated.  Then,  after 
some  delicate  hesitation,  he  said — 

"  I  was  not,  until  this  morning,  made  aware  of  the 
very  interesting  relations  which  you  once  sustained 
towards  a  young  lady — your  cousin — now  the  wife 
of  my  son.  You  were  once  engaged  to  be  married  to 
Miss  Sutherland,  I  hear  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  young  man,  seating  himself, 
in  a  calm,  unembarrassed  manner ;  while  the  old  gen- 
tleman scrutinized  the  expression  of  his  countenance, 
without  finding  anything  there  to  displease  him. 


232  INDIA.      THE   PEARL    OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

"  Will  you  object  to  informing  me  of  the  cause  of 
the  disruption  of  that  engagement  ?" 

"Certainly  not,  sir:  we  differed  upon  the  subject 
of  slavery.  She  took  sides  with  her  friends,  and — we 
parted ;  that  is  all." 

"  You  mean,  my  honoured  young  friend,  that  when 
called  to  do  so,  you  made  a  stupendous,  an  unpre- 
cedented sacrifice  of  fortune,  family  affection,  and  love, 
for  the  sake  of  principle — mistaken  principle,  perhaps, 
yet  still  principle.  Was  it  not  so?" 

Mark  Sutherland  bowed. 

"My  dear  young  friend,  we  differ  in  opinion'  but  I 
highly  respect  you.  I  earnestly  pray  that  you  may 
be  set  right,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  warmly,  as  he 
held  out  his  hand  to  Mark,  who  grasped  it,  pressed  it, 
and  let  it  fall. 

"  Mr.  Sutherland,  in  every  exigency  of  your  life,  1 
pray  you  to  consider  me  as  your  friend,  ready  always 
to  serve  you  with  counsel  or  assistance  of  any  kind 
I  have  fancied  that  since  the  unexpected  rencounter  of 
last  evening,  you  might  have  something  to  propose ; 
or,  rather,  that  you  might  wish  to  propose,  yet  be  with- 
held by  some  exquisite  sense  of  honour  and  delicacy. 
I  entreat  you  now  to  waive  all  considerations  save 
those  of  truth,  and  speak  freely  to  me." 

"  I  had  something  to  say  to  you,  Colonel  Ashley, 
and,  under  the  circumstances,  the  approach  of  the 
subject  was,  as  YOU  rightly  inferred,  extremely  diffi- 
cult to  me.  I  thank  you  for  having  opened  the  way," 
said  the  young  vum,  totally  misapprehending  him;  then, 
after  a  moment1?  hesitation,  he  went  on  to  say — "  You 
have  doubtless  F  trmised  the  nature  of  the  communi- 
cation I  had  to  ••  .ake  to  you.  It  is,  that  I  love  your 


DISCORDANCES.  233 

niece,  Miss  Vivian;  I  have  told  her  as  much  within 
a  few  hours  past,  and  have  her  permission  to  entreat 
your  sanction  of  our  engagement." 

Colonel  Ashley  sprang  from  his  chair,  shoving  it 
behind  him,  and  stood  gazing  with  astonishment  upon 
the  young  man — with  simple  astonishment,  unmixed 
with  regret  or  resentment.  At  last — 

"How  long  has  this  gone  on,  sir,  without  my 
knowledge  ?" 

"  I  fancied  it  was  not  without  your  knowledge,  sir. 
Our  association  has  been  very  open.  I  fancied,  from 
your  own  words,  that  you  expected  the  communica- 
tion I  have  just  made,"  said  Mark,  with  a  surprise 
almost  equal  to  his  own. 

"  No,  sir,  no !  my  words  referred  to  a  totally  dif- 
ferent matter,  which  I  shall  explain  presently,"  replied 
the  old  gentleman,  resuming  his  seat,  with  a  somewhat 
changed  manner.  "So  you  have  addressed  Miss 
Vivian?" 

Mark  bowed. 

"  And  won  her  consent  to  be  yours  ?" 

Another  bow  of  assent. 

"Humph!  well — so  I  have  been  truly  warned,  after 
all !  Pray,  Mr.  Sutherland,  have  you  ever  tried  to 
instil  into  the  minds  of  my  sons,  your  pupils,  any  of 
your  own  opinions  in  respect  to  slavery  ?" 

"  I  have  never  named  the  subject  to  them,  sir.  I 
have  endeavoured  to  cultivate  in  them  principles 
of  truth,  justice,  and  mercy,  and  left  the  application 
of  those  principles  to  that  subject  to  time  and  cir- 
cumstances." 

"  Humph !  Have  you  ever  convened  my  coloured 
people,  and  preached  insurrection  to  them?" 


281  INDIA.      THE    PEARL    OF    PEARL   RIVER. 

"Sir !"  exclaimed  Mark,  with  the  indignant  blood 
purpling  his  forehead. 

"  Nay,  nay !  don't  look  so.  God  knows,  if  you  had 
done  so,  I  should,  have  sought  no  vengeance,  young 
man." 

"Colonel  Ashley,  I  am  neither  mad  nor  unprinci- 
pled, however  I  may  have  been  misrepresented  to 
you." 

"I  believe  it,  Mark!  I  quite  believe  it.  I  will  not 
examine  you  upon  the  fourth  charge!  Heaven  knows 
what  demonstrations  of  indignation  would  meet  my 
question,  should  I  ask  you  if,  poet-wise,  you  had  en- 
deavoured to  awaken  in  Mrs.  Ashley's  memory  any 
sentimental  reminiscences  of  the  past!" 

Mark  smiled. 

"Yet  nevertheless,  my  dear  young  friend,  it  was  upon 
that  subject  that  I  wished  to  speak  to  you.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Ashley  will  make  this  house  their  permanent  home. 
My  son's  wife  will  be  the  mistress  of  the  establishment, 
of  course.  Will  it  be  pleasant  for  you  to  meet  them 
in  daily,  hourly  intercourse  ?  I  have  seen  it  written, 
that  'friendship  sometimes  turns  to  love,  but  love  to 
friendship  never.'  A  brimstone  sentiment,  I  admit. 
Still,  I  can  imagine  cases  and  characters  to  which  it  is 
applicable.  For  instance,  I  do  not  think  it  possible 
for  you  and  your  cousin  ever  to  be  friends." 

Mark  was  silent. 

"You  do  not  speak.  Do  you  perchance^  imagine 
that  you  two  could  live  comfortably  under  the  same 
roof?" 

"  Colonel  Ashley,  I  know  we  could  not." 

"That  will  do;  we  understand  each  other.     And  I 


THE   CONFESSION.  235 

leave  all  the  rest  to  yourself.  I  will  speak  with  you 
again  to-morrow.  In  the  meantime,  do  me  the  favour 
to  let  Miss  Vivian  know  that  I  wish  to  see  her." 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 

THE     CONFESSION. 

"  She'll  go  with  him,  in  all  his  weal  and  woe  ; 
Sh-j'll  be  with  him  in  sunshine  and  in  storm; 
In  bis  afflictions,  should  they  fall  on  him  ; 
In  his  temptations,  when  bad  men  beset  him ; 
In  all  the  perils  which  may  press  around  him ; 
And,  should  they  crush  him,  in  the  hour  of  death." 

Taylor— "Philip  Von  Artcwelde." 

"COME  here,  Eosalie;  I  want  to  have  a  very  serious 
talk  with  you,  my  child,"  said  Colonel  Ashley,  rising 
to  meet  his  niece,  as  she  entered,  and  leading  her  to 
a  seat.  "Now,  my  dear,  I  am  very  sorry  for  some- 
thing that  I  have  just  heard.  Nay,  now,  be  calm,  my 
dear — I  am  not  going  to  scold.  If  I  indulge  in  any 
sort  of  reproach,  it  must  be  in  self-reproach  for  my 
own  reprehensible  carelessness.  And  so,  my  child, 
you  are  engaged  to  be  married!" 

Rosalie's  face  crimsoned,  and  her  eyes  fell  to  the 
ground. 

"  And  what  good,  Rosalie,  do  you  think  will  ever 
come  of  this  imprudent  step?" 

The  blush,  deepened  on  her  cheek,  but  she  did  not 
reply. 

"And  what  am  I  to  think  of  this  penniless  young 
man,  who  uses  his  position  in  my  family  to  wile  the 


236     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

affections  of  my  niece — an  heiress?  Would  it  not  be 
a  fair  and  rational  conclusion  to  set  him  down  as  an 
unprincipled  fortune-hunter?" 

Rosalie  started.  Her  eyes  flashed,  her  lips  quivered. 
She  exclaimed — 

"Uncle,  you  do  not  believe  that — you  do  not!" 

"Would  it  not  be  fair  to  believe  it?" 

"  Uncle,  you  are  a  noble-hearted  being — you  always 
recognise  true  nobility  in  others.  Uncle,  be  just  to  Mr. 
Sutherland — nay,  be  just  to  yourself — unsay  your 
words." 

"Why,  Rosalie,  ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred  would 
call  your  lover  a  fortune-hunter." 

"  Oh,  sir,  they  could  not — they  could  not !  knowing 
that  Mr.  Sutherland  voluntarily  renounced  a  large  for- 
tune for  an  idea  of  duty." 

"At  any  rate,  Rosalie,  here  are  the  naked  facts: 
Mark  Sutherland,  being  quite  penniless,  and  well 
knowing  that  he  has  no  way  on  earth  of  supporting 
a  wife,  makes  the  best  use  of  his  opportunities  to  woo 
and  win  an  heiress !" 

Rosalie  dropped  her  face  into  her  hands ;  her  bosom 
heaved  convulsively,  as  with  some  inward  struggle, 
for  an  instant,  and  then  lifting  a  countenance  blush- 
ing and  tearful,  yet  gently  resolute,  she  said,  in  a  fal- 
tering voice : 

"  I  must  make  a  confession,  even  if  it  cover  me  with 
humiliation.  I  must  clear  Mr.  Sutherland,  and  take 
the  blame  where  it  truly  belongs — upon  my  own  head. 
Uncle,  it  was  my  fault — my  own — mint  solely" 

She  paused,  for  her  girl's  nature  would  not  bear  the 
look  the  old  man  fixed  upon  her.  She  averted  her 


THE   CONFESSION.  237 

face,  and  with  deeply  flushed  cheek  and  low,  tremu- 
lous voice,  resumed : 

"I  loved  him,  uncle.  It  was  impossible,  adoring 
moral  heroism  as  I  did,  not  to  love  him.  God  and 
angels  know  it,  and  you  must  know  it,  too" 

Again  she  paused  for  an  answer,  but  Colonel  Ash- 
ley did  not  reply,  and  she  asked — 

"  Uncle !  you  exonerate  Mr.  Sutherland  now,  do  you 
not?" 

"  Yes !"  exclaimed  Colonel  Ashley,  speaking  as  if 
waking  up  out  of  a  reverie.  "  I  exonerated  him  at 
first ;  I  only  wanted  to  see,  Eosalie,  whether  you  would 
have  the  honour  and  generosity  to  admit  what  you 
have.  Good  heaven !  It  seems  to  me  fully  one-half 
the  love  originates  with  the  girls,  although  they  have 
too  much  tact  to  let  us  know  it!  Now,  there  was 
your  aunt :  I  was  two  years  courting  her.  In  truth,  I 
thought  I  had  a  terrible  time  to  win  her  heart ;  but 
listen,  now.  Some  time  after  we  had  been  married, 
she  told  me  how  many  months  she  had  been  '  setting 
her  cap'  at  me  before  I  ever  thought  of  her ;  and  yet 
you  see  after  she  had  once  gained  her  point,  and 
brought  me  to  her  feet,  she  kept  me  on  the  tenter- 
hooks of  suspense  for  two  years !" 

"  May  I  go  now  ?     Are  you  done  with  me,  uncle  ?" 

"  No,  my  dear,  I  have  not  begun  with  you  yet !  I 
must  give  you  a  lecture !  Don't  you  know  it  was  a 
very  unmaidenly  thing  of  you  to  '  set  your  cap'  at 
Mr.  Sutherland?" 

"Uncle,  Mr.  Sutherland  evidently  does  not  pro- 
nounce such  a  judgment,  and  therefore  it  is  not  so." 

"No,  poor  fellow !  because  he  doesn't  know  you  did 
it.  He's  under  the  illusion  that  he  did  all  the  love- 


238     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEAKL  RIVER. 

making  himself.  That's  natural.  But  now,  then, 
Rosalie,  how  do  you  expect  to  get  along  in  this  world 
if  you  and  Mark  are  married  ?  You  may  know  that 
he  has  no  way  of  supporting  you,  and  your  guardian 
would  see  you  both  in  the  bottomless  pit  before  he'd 
advance  a  cent  of  your  fortune.  Come,  stop  blushing 
and  trembling,  and  answer  me,  my  dear.  I  like  peo- 
ple to  be  practical.  What  do  you  expect  to  do  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  uncle ;  I  wish  to  leave  it  all  to  Mr. 
Sutherland.  I  have  so  much  confidence  in  his  judg- 
ment and  in  his  regard  for  me,  that  I  feel  perfectly 
sure  he  will  never  draw  me  into  any  evil  or  suffering." 

"  Always  faith  in  Mark !  Suppose  he  should  be 
going  away  in  a  few  days,  and  suppose  he  should 
wish  to  marry  and  take  you  with  him  ?" 

"In  that  case,  I  should  wish  to  go,  dear  uncle. 
Have  you  done  with  me  now,  sir?"  asked  Rosalie, 
really  distressed  by  the  length  and  closeness  of  the 
examination  to  which  she  had  been  subjected. 

"Yes,  you  may  go!"  answered  the  old  gentleman, 
rising,  and  holding  the  door  open  for  her  to  pass. 
And  Rosalie  left  the  study. 

In  the  lower  hall  she  saw  Mark  Sutherland.  lie 
came  to  meet  her,  drew  her  arm  within  his  own,  and 
then  they  both  walked  into  the  garden. 

"Well,  dear  Rosalie,  do  you  know  that  I  shall 
probably  leave  here  in  the  course  of  a  week  ?" 

"  My  uncle  has  just  hinted  it  to  me.  Where  do  you 
go?" 

"  Back  to  the  village  of  S ,  to  take  possession  of 

an  established  office  about  to  be  vacated  by  my  friend 
Lauderdale,  who  is  coming  on  here,  upon  an  errand 
of  which  you  arc  ;drea<ly  apprise:-!,  my  cl'>ur  Rosalie.* 


THE   CONFESSION.  2o(J 

"  Yes,  I  know  mamma  and  Mr.  Lauderdale  will  be 
united  next  month." 

"  Well,  dear  Rosalie  ?" 

"Well?" 

"I  am  going  away  in  a  week — must  we  then  part?" 

"Not  unless  you  wish  to  go  and  leave  me  behind, 
Mark." 

"  Wish  to  leave  you  behind !  In  leaving  you  I 
should  turn  my  back  upon  my  guiding  star,  my  in- 
spiration, my  life !" 

"  Then  I  accompany  you,  Mark." 

"  Your  friends,  Eose,  will  they  not  raise  serious 
opposition  ?" 

"  No !  I  have  neither  father  nor  mother,  and  there 
are  no  other  friends  who  have  any  wish  to  rule  me,  or 
any  interest  in  doing  so.  My  young  step-mother  is 
going  to  break  the  conventional  tie  between  herself 
and  me  by  marrying  a  second  time ;  and  with  her  own 
heart  under  the  gentle  influence  of  happiness,  she  will 
not  be  disposed  to  wring  mine.  As  for  my  uncle,  his 
son  has  brought  a  wife  home  now,  who  will  be  the 
mistress  of  his  house,  and  he  no  longer  requires  my 
presence  in  that  capacity.  Indeed,  I  might  even  be 
considered  in  the  way.  And  neither  am  I  disposed  to 
take  a  second  place  in  a  household  of  which  I  have 
hitherto  been  at  the  head.  And  that  reminds  me  that 
I  am  at  the  head  of  it  still,  and  that  the  duties  of 
the  position  press  upon  me  every  hour — even  now," 
said  Rosalie,  moving  to  go. 

He  caught  her  hand  to  detain  her. 

"Stay — do  not  leave  me  just  yet.  And  so,  my 
dearest  Rosalie,  u~hen  I  go  forth  you  will  accompany 
me?" 


240  INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

"  I  have  said  that  if  you  wish  it — yes,  I  will  accom- 
pany you." 

"  God  bless  you,  dearest  Eose !"  burst  from  his  lips 
with  impassioned  fervour.  "  But,  my  dear  girl — my 
fairy,  fragile  girl — do  you  know  what  women  in  the 
far  West  have  to  encounter  ?  hardships  from  which 
the  most  robust  shrink;  hardships  from  which  the 
strong  and  beautiful  India  shrank ;  and  will  my  pale, 
frail  Rosalie  dare  them  ?  and  can  she  bear  them  ?" 

"India,  with  her  glorious  physique,  is  still  a  delicate 
daughter  of  the  sun ;  she  is  like  a  gorgeous,  brilliant 
exotic,  that  can  bloom  only  in  a  luxurious  conserva- 
tory ;  while  I,  with  my  wan  face  and  fragile  form,  am 
yet  a  child  of  the  wind — a  wood-anemone,  that  only 
withered  in  a  Southern  hothouse — that  will  flourish 
and  thrive  in  the  wilderness." 

"  Heaven  grant  it  may  be  as  you  say,  dear  Rosalie ! 
It  is  impossible  for  me  to  give  you  up,  to  leave  you  ; 
yet  when  I  think  of  all  you  may  have  to  suffer  in 
being  my  companion,  my  heart  is  filled  with  anxiety 
and  trouble.  What  did  you  say,  dearest  ?  Your 
sweetest  words  hide  under  low  tones,  just  as  the 
sweetest  violets  lurk  under  thick  shade.  What  were 
you  murmuring?" 

"Only  that  I  should  not  suffer  half  as  much  in 
meeting  anything  with  you,  as  I  should — as  I  should" — 

"  Well,  dearest  ?" 

11  In  being  left  behind"  said  Rosalie,  dropping  her 
head  upon  "his  shoulder,  as  he  caught  her  to  his  heart, 
and  exclaimed,  in  a  sudden  burst  of  emotion — 

"You  shall  not  be  left  behind,  my  darling !  my 
darling  !  By  all  my  hopes  of  earth  and  heaven.  I  will 
never,  never  part  tVoru  yen  ! 


PROGNOSTICS.  241 

For  a  moment  her  bead  had  rested  on  his  breast  in 
peace,  and  then  she  began  to  grow  restless  and  twisted 
herself  out  of  his  embrace. 

"Where  now?"  he  asked,  rather  impatiently. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  comic  expression  of 
countenance,  and  said : 

"It  is  a  mortifying  necessity  to  confess,  but  the 
truth  is,  the  luam  has  to  be  taken  out  of  soak  and  put 
on  to  boil  for  dinner,  aud  I  have  got  to  see  it  done ; 
also  there  are  gooseberry  tarts  and  lemon  custard  to 
be  prepared  for  the  dessert,  and  I  have  got  to  go  and 
do  it.  I  wonder  if  uncle  and  cousin  St.  Gerald,  who 
both  love  their  palates,  (low  be  it  spoken,)  will  ever 
get  anything  fit  to  eat  when  the  gorgeous  Mrs.  India 
takes  my  place!"  and  so,  laughing  and  escaping, 
she  ran  off. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

i 

PROGNOSTICS. 

"With  caution  judge  of  probability ; 
Things  thought  unlikely,  e'en  impossible, 
Experience  often  shows  us  to  be  true." — Shakspeare. 

THE  world-honoured  and  time-honoured  bard  whose 
lines  are  quoted  above  habitually  looked  beneath  the 
mere  plausible  surface  of  possibility,  and  from  the 
deep  insight  thereby  gained,  often  put  forth  oracles  at 
opposition  to  the  usual  routine  of  thought  and  expec- 
tation, yet  which  the  eternal  experiences  of  life  con- 
tinue to  endorse  as  truths. 
15 


242          INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

Were  I  writing  a  merely  fictitious  narrative,  it 
would  be  in  order  now  (after  the  custom-sanctioned 
manner  of  story-tellers)  to  describe  the  cruel  oppo- 
sition the  lovers  met  from  tyrannical  parents,  guar- 
dians, &c.  But  I  am  writing  a  true  story — in  this 
particular  at  least,  "stranger  than  fiction" — and  so 
have  no  such  events  to  relate. 

It  happened  as  Eosalie  had  predicted — she  met  no 
serious  opposition  to  the  current  of  her  affections. 
And  if  we  look  into  the  causes  of  that  leniency  on  the 
part  of  her  guardians,  we  shall  not  find  their  non- 
resistance  so  unaccountable,  after  all. 

Left  without  father  or  mother — without  near  rela- 
tives or  natural  protectors,  except  a  youthful  step- 
dame,  now  too  entirely  absorbed  in  the  contemplation 
of  her  own  marriage,  and  an  old  uncle,  to  whom  until 
two  years  past  she  had  been  a  perfect  stranger,  Miss 
Vivian  was  thus  not  the  first  object  of  interest  to  any 
one  around  her. 

It  is  true,  that  when  Rosalie  made  known  her  pur- 
pose to  Mrs.  Vivian,  the  lady  opposed  the  contemplated 
marriage  with  entreaties  and  tears ;  but  finding  that 
entreaties  and  tears  only  distressed  the  maiden  with- 
out shaking  her  resolution,  the  young  step-mother  felt 
neither  the  right  nor  the  inclination  to  attempt  the 
arbitrary  control  of  Miss  Vivian's  destiny.  In  yield- 
ing her  final  consent,  the  sweet-lipped  lady  said,  amid 
falling  tears — "Oh!  were  he  well  established,  Rosalie, 
there  is  no  one  in  the  world  to  whom  I  would  resign 
you  with  so  much  pleasure  and  comfort,  as  to  him 
whom  you  have  chosen.  And  well  I  know,  and 
deeply  1  feel,  that  even  now,  from  this  low  point  of 
life — with  you  by  his  si  ic — with  you  for  an  incentive 


PROGNOSTICS.  243 

— with  his  high  moral  principles  and  intellectual 
faculties,  and  in  this  favoured  country,  he  must  rise, 
he  must  accomplish  a  brilliant  destiny.  But  0,  Eosa- 
lie,  my  child,  in  the  meanwhile,  I  dread  for  you  those 
toilsome,  terrible  first  steps  on  the  road  to  success !  O 
Eosalie,  pause !  How  much  wiser  to  wait  until  he  has 
conquered  success !" 

"  And  share  his  triumphs  when  I  would  not  share 
his  toils?  No!  no!  no!" 

"It  would  be  so  much  safer,  Eosalie  1" 

"  And  so  much  more  prudent  to  allow  him,  in  those 
moments  of  depression  and  despondency  that  must 
come,  to  think  that  it  is  only  the  successful  statesman 
or  jurist  whose  fortunes  I  would  share,  not  those  of 
the  toiling  aspirant !  To  turn  a  second  India  on  his 
hands,  and  so  forever  and  forever  break  down  his 
faith  in  womanhood,  in  disinterestedness,  and  in  truth ! 
No !  no !  no !  and  a  thousand  times  no !  I  have  the 
blessed  privilege  of  healing  the  heart  that  India 
wounded,  of  lifting  up  the  brow  that  she  bowed  down, 
of  strengthening  and  sustaining  the  faith  that  she 
weakened." 

"  If  you  should  be  a  burden  to  him  ?" 

"  I  will  never  be  a  burden  to  him !  Providence  will 
never  so  fail  me.  Mine  is  no  sudden  girlish  fancy.  It 
is  a  deep,  earnest  affection,  arising  from  the  profoundest 
sentiments  of  esteem  and  honour  that  ever  woman  felt 
for  man — and  the  Father  who  inspired  it  will  bless  it. 
HE  who  in  his  benignant  love  said,  '  It  is  not  good  for 
man  to  be  alone,'  will  strengthen  me  to  be  a  true 
help-meet  for  my  husband." 

"  0  Eosalie !  be  practical,  child !" 

"  Be  faithful  first,  aiid  practical  afterwards." 


244     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEA&L  RIVER. 

"  Eosalie,  you  don't  know  what  you  brave !  Fancy 
yourself  and  Mark  now  married,  and  housekeeping 
(forsooth  !)  in  some  wretched  log- cabin  or  some  lath- 
and-plaster  shell  of  a  shanty,  in  some  new  Western 
village.  Fancy  yourselves  both  down  with  that  curse 
of  new  settlements,  the  ague,  and  each  unable  to  help 
the  other,  and  no  one  to  give  you  a  cup  of  tea,  and 
perhaps  with  no  tea  in  the  house." 

"  That  is  a  plain  statement  of  a  very  dismal  contin- 
gency, dear  mamma.  Yet  I  have  no  doubt  that  we 
should  shiver  and  shake  safely  through  it,  as  others 
have  done.  Yet  it  is  not  fair  or  wise  to  contemplate 
the  worst  possibility  only.  The  Western  pioneers  are 
not  always  laid  up  with  the  ague  and  without  tea  1"  said 
Rosalie,  with  a  sparkle  of  fan  in  her  eyes. 

But  in  a  moment  after,  the  young  girl's  face  grew 
serious,  and  she  said,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "  And 
besides,  dear  mamma,  the  very  bugbears  that  you 
have  evoked  to  frighten  me  from  my  journey  only 
draw  me  on  to  go.  Oh,  do  you  think,  mamma,  that 
I  could  bear  to  stay  here  in  safety,  ease,  and  luxury, 
and  know  that  he  was  far  away,  exposed  to  all  the 
dangers,  hardships,  and  privations  of  a  pioneer  life  ?" 

"  Nonsense !  Danger  is  the  natural  element  of  man ! 
to  seek  it  is  the  nature  of  the  creature!" 

"Yes,  mamma;  but  illness,  fever,  burning  thirst, 
solitude,  and  helplessness,  is  not.  And,  if  I  thought  that 
Mark  were  suffering  all  these  things  in  some  wretched 
Western  cabin,  and  I  not  near  to  bathe  his  head  and 
give  him  a  cup  of  cold  water,  and  to  nurse  and  com- 
fort and  soothe  him,  but  separated  from  him  by  thou- 
sands of  miles  of  mountains  and  plains,  I  tell  you, 
mamma,  it  would  nearly  break  my  heart !  It  is  no 


PROGNOSTICS.  245 

use !  I  must  go  with  him,  to  meet  whatever  of  good  or 
ill  Fate  has  in  store.  It  can  have  nothing  else  so  evil 
as  a  separation !  Oh  !  I  feel  as  if  the  worst  calamity 
that  could  possibly  befall  me,  would  be  a  separation 
from  him." 

"Foolish  girl!  You  love  that  broad-shouldered, 
robust  man,  as  tenderly  as  a  mother  loves  her  babe !" 

"  I  love  him  with  a  tenderness  and  sympathy  that 
makes  me  tremblingly  alive  to  his  least  ^sorrow  or, 
lightest  pain ;  and  yet  mark  you,  mamma,  with  an 
esteem,  with  a  depth  of  respect,  with  an  honour  that 
makes  me  aspire  to  his  approbation  as  my  highest 
good  under  Heaven !" 

"  0  Kosalie,  I  will  not  farther  oppose  you !  Yet,  if 
you  only  had  strength  to  endure  the  hardships  of  a 
Western  life,  I  should  feel  less  anxiety." 

"  Do  not  fear.  I  shall  be  able  to  endure,  because 
'  my  good  will  is  to  it ;'  and  energetic,  because  I  shaH 
have  a  good  motive ;  and  healthy,  because  I  shall  be 
happy — because  my  heart  will  be  right  and  at  rest ; 
for  I  say  it  again,  because  it  is  a  great  deep  truth — 
'  Out  of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life  /'  Yes,  out  of  the 
heart  are  the  issues  of  will,  purpose,  hope,  health, 
strength,  enterprise,  achievement,  SUCCESS!  Out  of 
the  heart  are  the  issues  of  all  the  good  that  can  come 
back  to  us  in  time  or  eternity!  on  earth  or  in 
Heaven  1" 


246     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER, 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

DEPARTURES. 

"  We  foresee  and  could  foretel 
Thy  future  fortune  sure  and  well ; 
But  those  passionate  ejes  speak  true,  speak  true, 
And  let  them  say  what  thou  shall  do  !" — Browning. 

WITH  Miss  Vivian's  uncle  the  difficulty  was  even 
less  in  obtaining  his  consent  to  the  marriage  with 
Mark  Sutherland;  and  for  the  following  reasons: — 
Colonel  Ashley  worshipped  his  proud,  talented  son, 
St.  Gerald;  and  in  his  estimation  no  interests  could 
compete  for  an  instant  with  St.  Gerald's  interests. 
Colonel  Ashley  liked  Rosalie  well  enough,  and  wished 
her  well  enough,  and  he  was  resolved  to  do  all  he 
could  to  insure  her  future  happiness;  yet  if  a  slight 
risk  of  her  welfare  would  insure  the  domestic  peace 
and  content  of  St.  Gerald,  Colonel  Ashley  was  not 
one  to  hesitate  between  the  conflicting  interests  of  his 
niece  and  son.  And  that  the  marriage  and  departure 
of  Mark  Sutherland  and  Rosalie  would  tend  greatly 
to  tranquillise  the  life  of  the  already  disturbed  hus- 
band, he  could  not  now  doubt. 

It  was  dreadful  to  notice  all  the  fatal  effects  of 
India's  want  of  faith — it  was  awful  to  anticipate  the 
final  result.  The  once  haughty  and  self-possessed 
woman  was  growing  spiritless  and  nervous,  subject  to 
extremes  of  excitement  and  depression,  moody,  irri- 
table, and  flighty  to  the  last  degree.  Her  glorious 
beauty  was  tvithering,  uniting,  as  you  have  seen  some 


DEPARTURES.  247 

richly  -blooming  flower  wither  suddenly  without  appa- 
rent cause — wither  as  if  scorched  by  the  burning 
breath  of  the  sirocco.  And  the  cause  was  apparent  to 
every  one  around  her,  not  excepting  her  bitterly- 
wronged  and  most  wretched  husband — to  every  one 
around  her  but  Rosalie,  whose  perfect  truth  and  inno- 
cence of  heart  shielded  her  from  the  suspicion  of  so 
much  evil.  If  it  was  fearful  to  see  the  ravages  that 
misery  had  made  in  the  glorious  beauty  of  India,  it 
was  not  less  so  to  observe  its  desolating  effect  upon 
the  splendid  genius  of  St.  Gerald. 

It  was  now  a  stirring  time  with  aspiring  young 
statesmen.  A  great  national  crisis  was  at  hand ;  and 
it  behooved  all  prominent  politicians  to  be  up  and  do- 
ing. St.  Gerald,  of  all  statesmen,  should  have  been 
the  most  active,  the  most  energetic.  The  eyes  of  his 
party  were  turned  in  anxiety  towards  him — the  eyes 
of  old  grey  heads,  exhausted  by  a  long  life's  service, 
and  reposing  on  their  well-earned  laurels,  and  the  eyes 
of  young  aspirants,  panting  to  succeed  to  them,  were 
all  fixed  upon  St.  Gerald,  as  their  hope,  their  leader, 
and  their  deliverer !  A  senator  already,  he  is  carried 
up  on  the  tenth  wave  of  popular  favour !  Should  he 
serve  them  well  in  this  crisis,  as  he  surely  can  if  he 
will,  for  his  talent,  his  eloquence,  his  influence  is 
mighty  among  the  nations;  should  he  serve  them  well 
this  time,  there  is  no  honour,  no,  not  the  highest  in 
the  gift  of  the  people,  to  which  he  may  not  reason- 
ably aspire !  St.  Gerald  should  be  busy  now — riding 
from  town  to  town,  from  county  to  county,  from 
State  to  State — convening  the  people,  organising 
meetings,  making  speeches,  drawing  up  resolutions, 
and  doing  all  those  multifarious  acts  by  which  states- 


248          INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

men  in  the  recess  of  Congress  touch  the  secret  springs 
of  the  great  political  machinery,  to  keep  it  in  mo- 
tion, or  haply  to  stop  it  altogether.  St.  Gerald  should 
be  up  and  doing,  for  now  is  the  "  tide"  in  his  affairs, 
which  "  taken  at  the  flood"  may  bear  him  on  to  for- 
tune— aye,  ultimately  to  the,  Presidential  chair.  St. 
Gerald  should  be  active,  stirring — for  every  day  is 
destiny !  But  the  young  statesman  is  doing  absolutely 
nothing.  He  is  withering  in  inaction,  because  his  bride 
is  withering  from  his  side. 

Colonel  Ashley  perceives  it  all.  And  can  he  see 
the  brilliant  fortunes  of  his  proud  boy  thus  wrecked, 
if  the  sacrifice  of  Rosalie  will  help  to  avert  the  ruin  ? 
No,  Eosalie!  Only  give  yourself  to  Mark  Suther- 
land, and  coax  him  away  to  "parts  unknown,"  to 
that  "  bourne  whence  no  traveller  returneth,"  if  possi- 
ble, and  your  uncle  will  smooth  your  path — he  will 
try  to  persuade  Clement  Sutherland  to  forego  his  wrath 
and  hate,  and  yield  you  up  your  own  fortune — he  will 
give  you  his  blessing,  and  as  much  assistance  of  every 
kind  as  your  independent  spirit  will  permit  you  to 
accept. 

Colonel  Ashley,  in  fact,  gave  his  full  consent  and 
approbation  to  the  engagement  of  Mark  Sutherland 
and  Eosalie  Vivian.  He  even  joined  Mr.  Suther- 
land in  persuading  Rosalie  to  fix  an  early  day  for  the 
solemnization  of  the  marriage. 

And,  having  settled  that  matter  to  his  satisfaction, 
he  next  sought  his  friend,  Clement  Sutherland,  and, 
having  informed  him  of  the  betrothal,  entreated  him 
to  make  some  provision  from  the  bride's  fortune  for 
the  young  couple,  or  at  least  to  settle  an  annuity  upon 


DEPARTURES.  249 

her  until  she  should  be  of  age,  and  enter  upon  the 
possession  of  her  property. 

But  Clement  Sutherland  was  proof  against  all  argu- 
ments and  entreaties.  He  locked  his  grim  jaws  fast, 
and  would  yield  not  a  cent  or  a  kind  word.  At  last 
Colonel  Ashley  left  him  in  indignation  and  despair. 
He  did  not  then  know  that  hate  and  revenge  were  not 
the  only  reasons  that  constrained  the  guardian  of 
Mark  Sutherland's  young  bride  to  hold  a  death-grip 
upon  her  purse-strings.  No  one  then  suspected  that 
the  money-grasping  passion  of  the  man  had  tempted 
him  into  ruinous  speculations  and  embezzlement  of 
the  orphan's  funds.  "Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the 
evil  thereof;"  therefore,  let  them  not  dream  it  yet!__ 

A  week  after  this  betrothal,  Mr.  Lauderdale  arrived, 
to  fulfil  his  engagement  with  the  "  sparkling"  young 
widow.  He  was  received  with  the  utmost  pleasure  by 
his  old  friends  and  acquaintances,  and  welcomed  with 
cordial  hospitality  by  Colonel  Ashley. 

The  next  week  witnessed  two  bridals.  Mr.  Lauder- 
dale and  Mrs.  Vivian  were  married  at  Ashley  Hall, 
by  the  pastor  of  the  parish ;  and  at  the  same  time  and 
place,  by  the  same  minister,  Mark  Sutherland  and 
Eosalie  Vivian  were  united  in  that  bond  that  only 
death  can  sever. 

The  next  day  there  were  two  departures :  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Lauderdale  bade  an  affectionate  adieu  to  their 
friends,  and  set  out  for  their  palace  home  in  the  South ; 
and  Mark  Sutherland,  and  Eosalie,  his  wife,  departed 
for  their  log  cabin  in  the  West. 


250          INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE    JOURNEY. 

"  If  any  two  creatures  grew  into  one, 
They  shall  do  more  than  the  world  has  done  j 
Tho'  each  apart  were  never  so  weak, 
Y«t  vainly  thro'  the  world  would  you  seek 
For  the  knowledge  and  the  might 
Which,  in  such  union,  grew  their  right." — Browning. 

"ROSALIE,  my  own  blessed  wife,  you  spoke  the 
truth,  or,  rather,  you  applied  it  fitly — 'out  of  the 
heart  are  the  issues  of  life  I'  I  feel  and  recognize  it 
now.  It  is  with  far  different  emotions  that  I  tread 
this  deck,  that  bears  us  on  to  the  great  West,  to  those 
which  oppressed  and  discouraged  my  soul  two  years 
ago.  Then,  dearest,  I  went  forth  alone,  unloved,  un- 
loving ;  now  your  form  hangs  upon  my  arm,  not  an 
incumbrance,  but  a  source  of  strength  and  joy.  But, 
O  Rosalie,  how  is  it — how  will  it  be  with  you  ?  Can 
you  love  the  wild  West  as  you  love  your  own  sunny 
South?" 

" '  Westward  the  star  of  empire  wends  its  way.' 
Who  can  look  upon  the  shores  of  this  great  river,  and 
note  the  many  thriving  new  villages,  without  joyfully 
perceiving  that  ?  The  South  is  a  beautiful,  a  luxuriant 
region,  where,  'lapped  in  Elysium,'  you  may  dream 
your  soul  away;  but  the  West  is  a  magnificently 
vigorous  land,  whose  clarion  voice  summons  you  to 
action.  The  South  might  be  illustrated  by  a  beautiful 
epicurienne,  like  India — the  West  only  by  a  vigorous 
young  Titan,  like" 


THE  JOURNEY.  251 

"Whom?" 

"Mark  Sutherland!"  answered  Eosalie,  with  her 
eyes  sparkling  with  delight. 

They  were  standing  upon  the  hurricane  deck  of  the 
steamer  Indian  Queen,  which  was  puffing  and  blowing 
its  rapid  course  down  the  Ohio  river.  She  was  lean- 
ing on  the  arm  of  her  husband ;  their  heads  were  bare, 
the  better  to  enjoy  the  freshness  of  the  morning  air ; 
her  eyes  were  sparkling,  and  her  cheeks  glowing  with 
animation,  and  her  sunny  ringlets,  blown  back,  floated 
on  the  breeze. 

From  their  elevated  site  they  commanded  a  view 
of  both  shores  of  the  river,  and  turned  their  eyes 
alternately  from  the  north  to  the  south  side. 

"  Does  my  dear  Eosalie  perceive  any  very  remark- 
able difference  in  the  aspect  of  these  opposite  shores  ?" 
asked  Mark,  bending  his  serious  gaze  upon  her. 

"  Yes !  I  notice  that  one  shore  is  thickly  studded 
with  thriving  villages  and  flourishing  fields,  while  the 
other  is  a  comparative  wilderness,  with  here  and  there 
a  plantation  house,  and  at  long  intervals  a  stunted 
town.  What  can  be  the  reason  of  this  ?" 

"  Have  you  not  already  surmised  the  reason?" 

The  thoughtful  eyes  of  Eosalie  roved  slowly  over 
the  scene,  and  then  raised  and  fixed  their  earnest  gaze 
upon  her  husband's  face,  and  she  said — 

"It  is  so.  There  is  only  one  set  of  persons  in  the 
civilized  world  who  are  more  unhappy  than  the 
negroes." 

"  And  they  are" 

"  Their  masters." 

"  Yes,  Eosalie ;  and  it  is  from  among  their  number 


252  INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OP  PEARL   RIVER. 

that  the  first  great  successful  reformer  of  the  great 
evil  must  arise !" 

"  Why  do  you  think  so,  Mark  ?" 

"  From  Jittiess :  we  are  unwilling  to  be  taught  our 
duty  by  an  antagonist  who  reasons  in  partial  igno- 
rance of  the  facts,  judges  harshly  and  unjustly,  and 
speaks  not  the  truth  in  love  so  often  as  falsehood  in 
hatred;  and  from  analogy:  all  great  successful  re- 
formers that  the  world  has  ever  known,  have  arisen — 
not  from  the  outside,  but  from  the  very  midst  of  the 
evil  to  be  reformed.  Martin  Luther  sprang,  not  from 
among  the  Illuminati,  but  from  the  bosom  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  and  priesthood.  Nay,  Christ 
himself  came  not  in  clouds  of  glory,  clothed  with  the 
majesty  of  Godhead  from  Heaven — he  arose  from  the 
midst  of  the  people  whom  he  came  to  redeem.  So, 
Eosalie,  the  apostle  of  liberty  must  arise  in  the 
South." 

She  had  listened  to  his  words  with  loving  and 
reverent  attention,  and  now  she  fixed  her  gaze  upon 
his  eyes,  and  said,  with  penetrating  earnestness — 

"  Mark  Sutherland—'  Thou  art  the  manT  " 

His  very  soul  thrilled  to  her  inspiring  words  and 
glance.  He  walked  hastily  from  her  side  in  agitation, 
but,  soon  returning,  said — 

"  Nay,  Koaalie,  nay ;  this  mission  is  not  for  me.  I 
hear  no  voice  from  heaven  calling  me  to  the  work  I" 

"Have  you  listened?  The  voice  of  God  speaks  not 
often  in  thunder  from  Heaven.  It  is  a  '  still,  small 
voice,'  breathed  from  the  depths  of  your  spirit.  '  The 
word  of  God  is  within  you.'  " 

He  pressed  his  hand  to  his  brow,  throwing  back  the 


THE  JOUKNEY.  253 

dark  hair  that  fell  in  waves  around  it.     He  was  still 
agitated,  excited. 

"You  trouble  my  soul  even  as  the  descending 
angel  troubled  the  pool  of  Bethesda,  Eosalie!"  he 
said. 

"  Only  to  arouse  its  powers,"  she  answered,  carry- 
ing out  the  simile.  While  speaking,  she  anxiously 
sought  his  eyes,  which  at  last  met  hers  in  a  loving 
gaze,  and  then  she  continued, — "  You  have  consecrated 
your  mission  as  only  such  a  mission  can  be  consecrated, 
by  a  great  sacrifice  at  its  commencement — can  you 
pause  now  ?" 

"  Kosalie !  Eosalie !  why  had  I  not  known  you  bet- 
ter before  ?  Why  could  I  not  have  loved  you  only 
from  the  first?  Why  have  the  last  two  or  three 
years  of  my  life  been  lonely  and  wasted  ?" 

' "  I  had  to  grow  up  for  you.  I  had  to  be  left  to 
mature  in  solitude  and  silence.  I  was  a  child  three 
years  ago." 

"  And  you  are  a  child  still,  young  priestess  of  liberty  I  ) 
A  child  still  in  all  things  but  the  inspired  wisdom  of 
your  heart  I" 

We  have  no  time  nor  space  to  follow  the  course 
of  this  young  pair,  step  by  step,  or  to  relate  the  many 
conversations  they  held  together,  in  which  hand  up- 
held hand,  heart  strengthened  heart,  spirit  inspired 
spirit,  until  the  two  grew  into  one — with  oue  heart, 
soul,  and  spirit — one  interest,  purpose,  and  object. 

The  boat  wended  on  her  way,  reached  the  mouth 
of  the  Ohio  river,  and  turned  up  the  Mississippi ;  and 

in  five  days  more  landed  at  the  new  village  of  S ,    / 

iu  the  Northwest  Territory.     It  was  very  early  in  the 
morning ;  the  sun  had  not  yet  risen,  and  the  fog  still 


254     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

lay,  white  and  heavy,  upon  the  wilderness  shores — for 
here  the  wilderness,  exuberant  and  luxuriant  in  vege- 
tation, lay  all  around — and  the  new  village  of  S — 
was  at  the  very  outskirts  of  pioneer  civilization.  It 
was  situated  on  the  right  or  east  bank  of  the  Upper 
Mississippi,  and  the  dwellings  were  scattered  up  and 
down  the  high  bluff  so  oddly,  that  a  passenger,  look- 
ing upon  the  hamlet,  said  it  see  med  as  if  a  giant  had 
gathered  a  handful  of  houses  and  flung  them  at  the 
bluff,  and  that  they  had  settled  at  random  where  they 
had  fallen. 

Our  young  couple  were  the  only  passengers  for 

S ,  and  they  followed  their  baggage  into  the  skiff, 

and  were  landed  just  as  the  sun  arose,  gilding  the 
windows  of  the  village,  and  lighting  up  into  splendour 
all  the  glorious  scene. 

"See,  Mark!  It  is  a  happy  omen,"  said  Rosalie 
smiling. 

He  pressed  her  hand,  and  turned  upon  her  a  look 
of  unspeakable  love,  as  he  handed  her  to  the  shore. 

There  was  a  porter  even  in  that  rude,  remote  place. 
He  took  charge  of  the  baggage,  and  led  the  way  to 
the  hotel  on  the  top  of  the  bluff. 

It  was  a  large,  unfinished,  two-story  frame  house, 
rudely  built  of  rough  pine  boards,  unpainted  without, 
and  unplastered  within.  Our  young  couple  followed 
their  guide,  the  porter,  who  was  also  the  landlord, 
into  the  large  bare  parlour,  which  was  also  the  kitchen 
of  the  inn.  This  room  was  scantily  furnished,  with  a 
few  rough  chairs,  a  table  neatly  enough  set  out  for 
breakfast,  and  a  glowing  cooking  stove,  in  full  blast, 
at  which  stood  the  cook,  who  was  also  the  landlady, 
getting  breakfast. 


THE  JOURNEY.  255 

The  rudeness  of  the  whole  scene  disturbed  Mark, 
for  Eosalie's  sake.  She  felt  that  it  did.  She  looked 
at  him  with  a  gladdening  smile,  exclaiming — 

"  Oh  !  I  like  it,  Mark.  I  like  it  so  much.  Every- 
thing is  so  new  and  strange,  and  so  free  and  easy. 
And  so  large  and  grand,"  she  added,  going  to  one  of 
the  windows,  and  looking  out,  with  delighted  eyes, 
upon  the  magnificent  virgin  country.  "The  air  is 
fine  here,  Mark.  There  is  a  springiness  and  life  in  it 
I  never  felt  before,  even  on  the  mountains.  And  see, 
the  fog  is  all  dispersed  already." 

"  Yes — it's  allowed  to  be  healthy  in  these  parts ;  no 
ague  here,"  said  the  landlady. 

"  And  so  near  the  '  river — that  is  strange,"  said 
Mark. 

"Well,  you  see  the  winds  blow  mostly  from  the 
shore ;  and  the  fog — when  there  is  a  fog — settles  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river.  And  then,  many  folks 
allow  that  this,  being  a  high,  lime-stone  country,  is 
naterally  healthy." 

"  Have  you  many  boarders  now  ?"  inquired  Rosalie, 
kindly  interesting  herself  in  the  fortunes  of  her 
hostess. 

"  Only  bachelors,  for  constant.  Sometimes,  when  a 
boat-load  of  people  arrive,  we  have  a  house  full,  till 
they  gets  settled  or  goes  somers  else,"  replied  the  land- 
lady, setting  the  coffee-pot  on  the  table,  and  ordering 
her  lord  and  master  to  go  to  the  door  and  blow  the 
horn.  She  then  invited  her  guests  to  sit  down  to 
breakfast,  and  had  just  begun  to  help  them,  when  her 
other  boarders,  the  bachelors — half-a-dozen  robust, 
rudely-clothed,  but  earnest,  intelligent-looking  men — 
entered,  and  gathered  around  the  table.  The  break- 


256     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

fast  was  plain,  but  substantial,  well-cooked,  and  abun- 
dant. And  our  young  pair,  as  well  as  the  bachelors, 
did  justice  to  the  fare. 

After  breakfast  "  the  bachelors"  left  the  table  and 
the  house,  and  went  about  their  various  businesses — 
some  to  their  stores,  some  to  their  workshops.  The 
landlady  bustled  about  to  wash  up  and  clear  away 
her  breakfast  service ;  and  Mark  Sutherland  followed 
his  young  wife  to  the  window,  and  said — 

"  And  now,  dear  Rosalie,  I  must  leave  you  here,  at 
least  till  noon." 

"  You  must  ?" 

"Yes;  there  is  much  to  be -done,  that  must  be  done 
immediately.  Lauderdale's  deserted  law-office  must 
be  opened  and  aired,  and  my  sign — or  shingle,  as  the 
folks  here  call  it — tacked  up,  and  the  place  generally 
prepared  for  the  transaction  of  any  business  that  may 
turn  up.  Then  I  have  to  write  and  send  off  an  ad- 
vertisement to  the  nearest  newspaper— which,  by  the 
way,  is  published  in  a  town  thirty  miles  distant.  And 
lastly,  dear  Eose,  I  have  to  look  up  a  cabin,  or  part 
of  a  frame  house,  where  '  two  mortal  mice,'  like  you 
and  I,  may  go  to  housekeeping.  Whether  all  this 
can  be  accomplished  in  a  forenoon,  or  not,  I  do  not 
know ;  but,  at  all  events,  I  shall  try  to  be  back  again 
at  twelve.  Good  bye." 

And,  pressing  her  hand,  he  left  her. 

Rosalie  seated  herself  by  the  window,  and  looked 
out  upon  the  new  country.  From  the  river,  and  from 
the  grove  that  crowned  the  bluff  on  which  the  village 
was  situated,  the  country  stretched  eastward,  out  and 
out — a  high,  level,  and  limitless  prairie,  its  flat  and 
green  monotony  broken,  ut  wide  intervals,  by  groves 


THE  JOUENEY.  257 

similar  to  this  which  surrounded  S ,  and  relieved 

by  countless  millions  of  wild  flowers,  whose  rich,  gor- 
geous, and  brilliant  hues  surpassed  anything  the  ob- 
server had  ever  seen  before. 

"  What  is  that  splendid  scarlet  flower  that  grows  so 
tall,  and  is  as  abundant  on  the  prairie  as  clover  in  our 
own  fields  ?"  inquired  Eosalie. 

"  I  reckon  you  are  talking  about  the  prairie  pink  ; 
but  I  haven't  much  time,  myself,  to  take  notice  of 
flowers — 'specially  wild  weeds,"  replied  the  landlady, 
rattling  the  dishes  and  tea-cups,  and  bustling  about 
between  the  cooking  stove,  the  table,  and  the  cup- 
board. 

"  Are  you  not  a  Marylander  ?"  asked  Eosalie. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  woman.     "How  did  you  know?" 

"By  your  speech." 

Just  at  this  moment  the  cry  of  a  child  commenced 
in  an  adjoining  room,  and  continued  during  the  whole 
of  the  hostess's  morning  work.  She  set  aside  the 
table,  and  began  to  sweep  the  room,  raising  a  great 
dust  from  the  dried  and  pulverized  mud  left  by  the 
bachelors'  shoes.  Eosalie  thoughtlessly  threw  her 
pocket-handkerchief  over  her  head,  to  protect  her 
hair  from  the  dust — thoughtlessly,  for  else  she  might 
have  guessed  it  would  displease  the  touchy  pride  of 
the  hard-working  pioneer  woman. 

"  You  don't  like  the  dust — maybe  you  never  saw  a 
broom  ?"  she  asked,  looking  somewhat  contemptuously 
at  the  young  lady's  delicate  person. 

"  Oh !  yes,  I  have,"  said  Eosalie,  gently,  "  and  used 
a  broom,  too ;  but  I  always  sprinkle  the  floor,  and  tie 
a  handkerchief  over  my  head  before  sweeping." 

"  And  what  do  you  take  all  that  trouble  for  ?" 
16 


258  INDIA.      THE  PEARL   OF  PEARL  RIVEE. 

"  Because  I  dislike  the  dust  to  settle  on  my  hair." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  You'll  get  out  of  that,  if  you  settk 
in  these  parts,"  laughed  the  woman — not  ill-naturedly 
this  time — resuming  her  broom,  and  continuing  her 
sweeping  to  its  completion.  Then  she  fired  up  the 
cooking-stove  afresh;  and  while  it  was  drawing,  and 
roaring,  and  heating. the  room  to  suffocation  in  this 
sultry  summer  weather,  she  wiped  down  the  chairs 
with  her  apron,  and  finally  went  into  the  next  chamber 
and  brought  out  her  baby  which  was  still  squalling  at 
the  top  of  his  voice.  Giving  him  a  piece  of  bread,  she 
sat  him  in  the  cradle  and  went  about  her  work,  not- 
withstanding that  the  child  threw  away  the  bread,  and 
was  screaming  louder  than  ever.  Eosalie  got  up  and 
lifted  the  babe,  and  took  him  to  the  window,  where 
she  sat  down  with  him,  and  soon  soothed  his  temper. 
The  over-worked  mother  looked  pleased,  but  said, 
deprecatingly — 

"  You  needn't  adone  that ;  'tain't  a  bit  o'  use ;  it'll 
only  spile  him.  You'll  find  'twon't  do.  And  if  ever 
you  have  a  house  of  your  own,  and  a  baby  of  your 
own,  and  no  one  to  tend  to  nyther  but  yourself — mark 
my  words — just  exactly  when  the  loaf  of  bread  is 
burning  up  in  the  oven,  and  the  tea-kettle  is  boiling 
over,  and  the  fat  is  catching  afire  in  the  frying-pan, 
that  very  time  the  baby's  going  to  take  to  open  its 
throat  and  squall  you  deaf.  Let  it  squall!  You 
ain't  got  twenty  pair  o'  hands — you  can't  tend  to 
everything  at  once.  You'll  find  it  so,  too — mark  my 
words — I  never  knew  it  to  fail  1" 

"  That  is  a  very  discouraging  picture,  indeed,"  said 
Kosalie ;  "  nevertheless,  I  should  try  to  foresee  and 
prevent  such  a  combination  of  perplexities." 


THE  JOURNEY.  259 

"  Oh !  would  you  ?  You  may  thank  goodness  if,  on 
top  of  all  that,  your  man  aint  down  with  a  spell  of 
sickness,  and  the  cow  lost  in  the  woods,  and  the  well 
dry!"  said  the  hostess,  going  to  the  door,  and  rapping, 
and  calling  out — 

"  John !     You  John !" 

The  landlord,  her  "  man,"  obeyed  the  summons, 
entering  from  the  bar-room.  She  met  him  with  a 
sharp  rebuke,  for  not  bringing  water  enough,  not 
splitting  wood  enough,  not  bringing  the  vegetables  for 
dinner — "  An'  it  drawin'  on  to  'leven  o'clock — and  he 
knew  the  bachelors  would  be  home  to  dinner  at 
twelve."  And  pushing  the  empty  pail  into  his  hand, 
she  bade  him  make  haste  to  the  well,  and  be  back  in 
no  time  with  the  water,  and  so  she  hustled  him  out  of 
the  house.  And  soon  the  process  of  dinner-cooking 
was  commenced ;  and  in  addition  to  the  melting  heat 
of  the  stove,  the  various  mingled  steams  of  boiling, 
stewing,  and  frying  arose,  and  filled  the  summer  air 
with  thick,  greasy  vapour. 

"Surely  cooking-stoves  were  first  invented  by  the 
demon,"  Rosalie  could  not  help  thinking,  while  she 
resolved,  whenever  she  had  to  cook,  it  should  be  in  an 
open  fire-place,  where  the  stifling  vapours  could  ascend 
the  chimney. 

When  dinner  was  ready,  the  sound  of  the  horn 
summoned  the  same  company,  who  entered  first  an 
adjoining  shed,  where  they  all  washed  their  faces  and 
hands,  using  the  same  tin  basin  and  the  same  crash 
towel,  and  then — coarse,  ruddy,  healthful,  and  hungry 
— they  came  in,  and  gathered  around  the  table.  A  few 
minutes  after  they  had  sat  down,  Mark  Sutherland 
returned  from  his  morning's  ramble,  and  took  his 
scat  amoiiK  them. 


260     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

"How  have  you  prospered  in  your  enterprise  to- 
day, Mark?"  asked  Rosalie,  as  they  left  the  table. 

"I  have  got  through  all  I  wished  to  do  to  my  per- 
fect satisfaction,  except  one  thing." 

"And  that?" 

"I  have  not  been  able  to  rent  a  house,  or  a  part  of 
a  house,  either  for  love  or  money!  And  so,  dear 
Rosalie,  I  shall  have  to  leave  you  again  this  after- 
noon, in  order  to  renew  my  search.  And  I  am  afraid 
you  find  the  time  hang  very  heavily." 

"Not  at  all,  I  assure  you,  Mark.  I  have  been 
occupied  and  interested.  Everything  is  so  different 
here  from  what  I  have  ever  been  accustomed  to." 

"  Yes,  very  different,  indeed !"  said  Mark  Suther- 
land, with  a  sigh. 

"  Now,  I  didn't  mean  that,"  said  Rosalie,  smiling. 
"  I  meant  that  everything  is  so  new  and  strange  that 
I  am  entertained  and  amused  every  moment." 

"Entertain  and  amuse  yourself,  then,  as  well  as 
you  can,  until  I  come  back  in  the  evening ;  then,  my 
love,"  whispered  Mark,  stealthily  pressing  her  hand 
to  his  heart,  as  he  left  her. 

The  landlady  rattled  and  clattered  the  dishes,  and 
bustled  about  between  table,  cupboard,  and  cooking- 
stove,  until  she  had  cleared  away  the  dinner-service. 
And  then  she  proceeded  to  wash  off  the  stove,  raising 
a  more  offensive  vapour  than  before.  Then  she  swept 
the  floor  again ;  then  she  got  a  tub  of  water  and  a  mop, 
and  washed  it  all  over.  And  then,  after  wiping  and 
putting  away  the  tub,  and  pan,  and  mop,  and  doing 
numberless  other  "  last  jobs,"  she  finally  cleansed  her 
own  face  and  hands,  put  on  a  clean  apron,  and  sat 
down  to  nurse  her  baby,  and  talk  to  Rosalie.  But 


THE  JOURNEY.  261 

by  this  time  the  afternoon  was  so  far  spent,  that  the 
poor  woman  had  not  rested  half  an  hour  before  it  was 
time  to  get  up,  fire  up  the  cooking-stove  once  more, 
and  prepare  supper  for  her  family  and  her  boarders, 
who  would  be  back,  she  said,  at  six. 

Eosalie  was  sympathetically  fatigued,  only  to  wit- 
ness her  labours,  and  she  could  not  refrain  from  say- 
ing, as  she  once  more  took  charge  of  the  fretful,  teeth- 
ing child — 

"  Indeed,  you  have  a  great  deal  to  do.  I  do  not 
know  how  you  have  strength  to  go  through  so  much." 

"Ah!  you  will  know  after  a  bit;  wait  a  little. 
Lord,  child,  this  is  nothing  at  all !  wait  till  wash-day," 
said  the  hostess,  putting  a  great  tray  of  flour  on  the 
table,  and  preparing  to  make  bread. 

And  once  more  the  process  of  cooking  went  on, 
with,  the  same  accompaniments  of  melting  heat,  sti- 
fling vapour,  &c.  And  again  the  horn  sounded,  and 
the  company  gathered;  but  this  time  Mark  Suther- 
land did  not  appear  during  the  whole  course  of  the 
meal — no,  nor  after  it  was  over. 

The  table  was  cleared  away,  the  room  once  more 
put  in  order,  the  candles  lighted  for  the  evening,  and 
the  men  gathered  in  the  kitchen,  with  their  pipes,  but 
still  Mark  did  not  come. 

The  landlady  was  rocking  her  baby  to  sleep,  and 
entering  at  intervals  into  the  conversation.  At  last 
she  arose,  and  put  her  child  to  bed,  and  asked  Rosalie 
if  she  should  not  like  to  be  shown  to  her  sleeping- 
room. 

Rosalie  replied  in  the  affirmative ;  and  the  hostess 
lighted  a  candle  and  conducted  her  through  the  mid- 
dle passage,  and  up  the  stairs,  and  opened  a  door  to 


262          INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

the  right  of  the  landing,  leading  into  a  large  room, 
unplastered,  and  nearly  unfurnished.  The  room  was 
divided  in  the  middle  by  a  temporary  partition  of 
hanging  blankets.  In  the  first  division  there  were 
two  double  beds,  covered  with  coarse  patch-work 
quilts.  The  hostess  passed  between  these,  and,  putting 
aside  the  blankets,  led  her  guest  to  the  interior  divi- 
sion, which  was  smaller,  and  contained  only  one  bed, 
covered  like  the  others. 

"You  are  to  sleep  here.  Is  there  anything  you 
want  ?"  she  asked,  setting  down  the  candle  on  a  chest 
that  served  as  toilet-table  and  washstand. 

"Yes;  water  and  towels,  if  you  please,"  replied 
Eosalie. 

"  I'll  get  them  for  you  in  a  minute.  When  do  you 
look  for  him  in  ?" 

"  Mr.  Sutherland  ? — every  moment !" 

"  Umph !  humph !  Now  tell  me  the  truth — I  sha'n't 
blame  you — it's  none  o'  my  business  you  know,  but — 
ain't  you  and  that  young  man  a  runaway  match?" 

"  Why,  no,  certainly  not,"  said  Eosalie,  reddening 
and  laughing.  "We  were  married  in  my  uncle's 
house,  and  left  it  with  his  blessing  and  good  wishes." 

"  That's  right ;  you  must  excuse  my  asking,  but  you 
somehow  looked  so  young  and  delicate  for  such  a  life 
as  you're  come  to,  that  I  couldn't  help  thinking  that 
it  must  o'  been  a  love-match" 

Rosalie  did  not  say  that  she  hoped  it  was  a  love- 
match,  and  the  landlady  departed  on  her  errand. 

When  she  entered,  bringing  a  tin  basin  and  a  crash 
towel,  she  put  them  down  upon  the  chest,  and  said : 

"  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  there  are  four  bachelors 
sleep  in  the  fore  part  of  the  room." 


THE  JOURNEY.  263 

.Rosalie  looked  up,  surprised  and  shocked.  This 
feature  of  western  life  was  quite  new  to  her,  and  she 
was  totally  unprepared  for  it. 

The  hostess  saw  her  expression,  and  hastened  to  say 
— "  Oh  1  they're  very  nice,  steady  young  men ;  they 
won't  make  a  noise,  and  keep  you  awake." 

"  But  have  you  no  private  room  unoccupied  ?  Your 
house  seems  large ;  I  should  think  there  were  at  least 
four  chambers  on  this  floor  ?" 

"  Lor'  bless  you,  child,  so  there  are ;  but  the  floors 
ain't  laid  to  none  o'  them  except  this  one,  which  is  the 
reason  I  have  to  put  so  many  in  it.  Bless  you,  you 
mus'n't  mind  such  things  out  here — nobody  does — 
'tain't  like  where  you  come  from,  you  know.  And 
now,  child,  if  there's  nothing  else  I  can  do  for  you,  I 
hope  you'll  excuse  me,  for  indeed  I  am  so  tired  I  am 
almost  ready  to  drop." 

"  Certainly ;  indeed,  I  am  sorry  to  have  given  you  so 
much  trouble.  Good  night!" 

"Good  night!"  said  the  hostess,  taking  up  her  can- 
dle, and  disappearing  through  the  opening  folds  of  the 
blanket. 

Eosalie  did  not  wish  to  sleep.  The  not  unpleasant 
restlessness,  induced  by  a  new  and  strange  position, 
drove  sleep  for  a  time  from  her  eyes.  She  drew  the 
chest  to  the  only  window  in  her  part  of  the  room,  and 
sat  down,  and  opened  it,  and  looked  out  upon  the  dark 
green  prairie,  that  seemed  to  roll  out  like  the  ocean  to 
meet  the  eastern  horizon,  where  the  harvest  rnoon  was 
just  rising.  The  full  moon !  It  was  the  only  familiar 
object  that  met  her  eyes  in  all  the  strange,  wild,  lonely, 
beautiful  scene — the  only  old  acquaintance — the  only 
thing  she  had  known  at  home !  Tears — but  not  of 


264  INDIA.      THE   PEARL    OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

sadness — rushed  to  her  eyes.  And  then  she  thought 
of  the  vicissitudes  of  the  last  two  years,  and  especially 
of  the  last  two  months ;  of  her  life  of  almost  oriental 
luxury  in  the  valley  of  the  Pearl;  of  her  home  in  the 
mountains  of  Virginia,  where  she  was  surrounded  by 
all  the  advantages  of  wealth,  taste,  elegance,  and  com- 
fort— where  the  eyes  of  affection  watched  her  motions 
all  day  long,  and  many  servants  waited  on  her  lightest 
bidding ;  and  then  of  the  roughness  and  ruggedness 
of  her  present  lot.  But  not  in  repining,  and  not  in 
regret  did  she  compare  these  various  phases  of  her 
life.  She  was  happy  if  ever  young  wife  was  so.  She 
looked  upon  the  prairie,  bathed  in  the  silvery  splen- 
dour of  moonlight,  with  its  mystic  boundaries  lost  un- 
der the  horizon,  and  its  vastness  and  vagueness  cast  a 
glamour  over  her  imagination,  and  charmed  her  with 
the  fancy  of  wandering  on  and  on  in  quest  of  its  un- 
known limits,  or  as  far  as  the  vanishing  boundaries 
might  entice  her.  In  the  midst  of  these  eyrie  reveries 
sleep  surprised  her,  and  her  fair  head  sank  upon  her 
folded  hands  on  the  window-sill. 

She  was  awakened  by  a  gentle  clasp  around  her 
waist  and  a  gentle  voice  in  her  ear,  saying — 

"  My  Kosalie — asleep  at  the  window  with  the  night 
dews  falling  on  your  head  ?" 

She  started,  blushed,  smiled,  and  exclaimed,  "O, 
Mark,  is  it  yc  i  ?  I  am  so  glad  that  you  have 
cornel" 

He  let  down  the  window,  and  placed  his  hand  upon 
her  head  to  see  if  it  was  damp,  and  asked — 

"  Why  did  you  not  go  to  rest,  Rosalie  ?" 

"  Why,  at  first  I  was  not  sleepy ;  and  I  heard  that 
there  were  strangers  in  the  next  room — or,  rather,  on 


THE  JOURNEY.  205 

the  other  side  of  the  blankets — and  it  seemed  so  odd. 
I  could  not  get  used  to  the  thought  in  a  minute, 
Mark." 

He  answered  with  a  laugh  and  said,  as  he  looked 
around — 

"  Yes,  it  is  rather  a  rude  place,  with  rather  primitive 
accommodations,  for  the  first  and  best  hotel  in  the 
great  city  of  Shelton.  But,  never  mind ;  wait  a  bit. 
In  a  year  or  two  you  shall  see  this  house  well  and 
completely  finished,  within  and  without,  and  the  rooms 
all  properly  and  comfortably  fitted  up  and  furnished, 
and  the  establishment  provided  with  suitable  waiters 
and  chamber-maids;  and  in  half-a-dozen  years  the  host 
will  probably  have  made  his  fortune." 

"  Well,  Mark,  and  what  success  have  you  had  this 
afternoon  ?" 

"  The  best  success.  I  have  found  a  house,  which  I 
think  will  suit  us  exactly.  Come  to  the  window  for 
a  moment  again.  Do  you  see,  immediately  under  the 
moon,  that  distant  grove,  that  looks  as  if  it  were  just 
against  the  horizon?  You  see  the  trees  stand  up 
straight  and  dark  against  the  sky  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  see  it." 

"  That  is  Wolf's  Grove.  It  is  not  more  than  three 
miles  from  here.  I  can  easily  walk  the  distance  twice 
a  day.  There  is  one  building  on  the  spot — a  large 
log  cabin,  that  was  put  up  for  a  meeting-house,  but 
has  fallen  into  disuse  since  the  rise  of  this  village. 
The  cabin  is  in  good  repair,  and  I  have  already  en- 
gaged it.  So,  dear  wife,  we  have  only  to  wait  for  the 
arrival  of  our  little  furniture,  to  go  to  housekeeping. 
And  to-morrow  we  will  go  over  to  Wolf's  Grove,  and 
review  the  premises. 


266    INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    LOG    CABIN. 
"  A  summer  lodge  amid  the  wild." — Bryant. 

"JUDGE!  your  plunder's  come — landed  from  the 
4  Sachem'  this  morning !"  were  the  words  with  which 
the  landlord  greeted  Mark  Sutherland,  as  the  latter, 
with  Rosalie,  descended  to  breakfast. 

"  Judge !"  echoed  Rosalie,  looking  inquiringly  from 
one  to  the  other. 

Mark  Sutherland  laughed,  and  pinched  her  arm; 
and  when  their  host  had  moved  off  in  another  direc- 
tion, said : 

"  Nonsense,  Rose.  Yes,  it  was  I  whom  he  addressed 
as  Judge — of  course  it  was.  Every  one  gets  an  hono- 
rary title  of  distinction  here.  I  don't  know  what  it  is 
given  for ;  certainly  not  to  confer  honour,  but  rather, 
I  suppose,  for  the  sake  of  civil  brevity,  as  it  is  easier 
to  say  '  Judge'  than  '  Mr.  Thompson.'  Now,  if  I  had 
ever  belonged  to  .any  military  company — if  only  as 
private  in  militia,  they'd  dub  me  here  '  Cap'n,'  if  not 
'  Major,'  or  '  Gen'l :'  and  if  I  were  county  constable, 
instead  of  law  student,  they  must  still  call  me 
'Judge.'" 

And  just  then,  as  if  in  illustration  of  Mr.  Suther- 
land's words,  several  men  entered,  eagerly  inquiring 
for  "  the  Colonel,"  meaning  the  landlord.  And  when 
the  host  came  forward  to  know  their  will,  several 
speaking  equally  together,  exclaimed  : 


THE  LOG  CABIN.  267 

"  Colonel,  we  want  your  guns,  and  your  dogs,  and 
your  company,  this  morning,  to  hunt  a  pack  of  wolves 
that  chased  Jones's  boy  almost  into  the  village !" 

"A  pack  of  wolves!"  exclaimed  the  boarders, 
gathering  around. 

"  Jones's  boy !"  ejaculated  the  landlord,  in  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Eiding  from  McPherson's  mill ;" 

"  So  close,  they  caught  at  the  boy's  boots ;" 

"  Foremost  one  hung  upon  the  horse's  flanks ;" 

"Wounded;" 

"  Nothing  but  the  animal's  speed  saved  him ;" 

"Wet  with  sweat;" 

"Miraculous  'scape;" 

"  Jones's  boy,"  &c.,  were  the  broken  sentences  with 
which  the  tale  was  told  by  the  several  informants,  all 
speaking  at  once. 

"  Well,  friends,  long  as  there's  no  damage  done,  I 
don't  see  any  use  in  being  so  excited.  As  to  my 
guns  and  dogs,  you  can  have  them  in  welcome ;  but 
as  to  my  company,  I  have  promised  the  Judge  here 
to  drive  him  and  his  wife  over  to  see  their  house. 
And  I  expect  they  will  want  me  to  haul  the  plunder 
over  too — won't  you,  Judge  ?" 

Mark  Sutherland  bowed. 

After  a  little  discussion,  they  urged  "the  Judge" 
to  join  their  hunt,  and  Eosalie  privately  squeezed 
Mark's  arm  in  disapproval.  Mark  declined ;  and,  after 
a  little  more  altercation,  the  visitors  at  length  departed, 
with  three  or  four  of  the  bachelor  boarders,  who 
quaffed  each  a  "hasty"  cup  of  coffee  and  followed. 

When  this  little  disturbance  was  over — 

"  I  did  not  know,"  said  Mr.  Sutherland,  "  that  the 


268  INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF   PEARL  RIVER. 

wild  denizens  of  the  forest  ever  ventured  so  near  the 
settlements." 

"No  more  they  don't,"  replied  the  host;  "only  this 
go,  I  s'pose,  the  Injuns  have  been  hunting  of  'em  and 
druv  'em  close  on  to  the  village.  We'll  git  shut  of  'em 
agin  after  a  bit." 

When  breakfast  was  over,  "the  Colonel"  geared  up 
the  carryall  to  take  his  young  guests  across  the 
prairie  to  Wolf's  Grove.  It  was  a  fresh,  bright,  blithe 
morning,  scarcely  seven  o'clock,  when  they  set  out, 
and  the  prairie  still  glistened  with  dew.  There  was 
no  road  to  Wolf's  Grove;  but  the  driver  took  a  bee- 
line  over  the  level  ground,  and  the  wheels  of  the  carry- 
all tracked  deep  through  the  sedgy  grass  and  gorgeous 
wild  flowers. 

"It  looks  strange  to  me,"  said  Eosalie,  "to  see 
these  glorious  flowers — which,  if  they  were  in  our 
eastern  gardens,  we  should  cherish  with  so  much  care 
— driven  down  and  crushed  by  thousands  under  our 
wheels." 

"  It  is  "but  the  sign  of  the  fall  of  the  forest  before 
the  advancing  march  of  immigration,"  observed 
Mark. 

"  It  reminds  me,  somehow,  of  the  triumphal  entries 
of  the  sanguinary  old  conquerors  of  ancient  times, 
whose  chariot  wheels  passed  ruthlessly  over  the  fallen, 
the  dead,  and  the  dying." 

Mark  smiled  at  her  fancy,  and  the  driver  took  his 
pipe  out  of  his  mouth,  and  turned  and  looked  at  her 
in  perplexity. 

"But,  Rose,  when  you  look  around  you  at  the 
countless  millions  of  flowers  left  blooming — nay,  1 
mean  to  say,  when  you  think  of  the  countless  millions 


THE   LOG  CABIN.  269 

of  trees  left  standing— -does  it  not  give  you  an  exultant 
sense  of  the  exhaustless  wealth,  the  boundless  resources 
of  our  prairies  and  forests?" 

"I  know  something  inspires  me  with  unlimited 
hope  just  now.  There  is,  certainly,  as  far  as  the  com- 
forts and  elegances  of  civilized  life  are  concerned,  a  look 
of  great  privation  in  the  village  and  among  the  peo- 
ple we  have  just  left.  And  yet — and  yet — whether 
it  is  because  the  inhabitants  are  mostly  young  and 
full  of  health  and  hope,  or  that  the  houses  are  all 
new,  or  that  the  primeval  wealth  and  exuberance  of 
nature  is  not  only  undiminished,  but  almost  untouched ; 
whether  it  is  any  or  all  of  these  causes,  I  do  not  know, 
but  certainly  to  me  there  is  about  this  country  an  air 
of  youth,  vigor,  hope,  promise,  unlimited,  indescribable ! 
I  feel  its  influence,  without  being  able  to  explain 
it.  It  seems  to  me  that  here,  the  age,  the  weariness, 
and  the  sorrow  of  the  old  world  has  been  left 
behind.  That  this  is  a  breaking  out  in  a  new  place,  or 
rather  that  this  country  and  people,  and  we  ourselves, 
are  a  new  creation,  fresh  from  the  hand  of  God,  and 
with  a  new  promise  1  Let  us  be  faithful  to  our  part  of 
the  covenant.  Oh,  let  us  be  faithful;  let  no  sin,  selfish- 
ness, injustice  of  ours  cause  us  to  lose  the  glorious 
promise!" 

A  pressure  of  the  hand,  at  once  approving,  kind, 
and  warning,  from  Mark  Sutherland,  reminded  Rosalie 
that  they  were  not  alone. 

A  little  farther  on,  the  sprightly  eyes  of  the  girl 
lighted  upon  a  large,  speckled  bird,  standing  still, 
almost  in  their  road. 

"  What  a  beautiful  bird !  What  is  it  ?"  inquired 
Rosalie. 


270  INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

"It's  a  prairie  chicken.  Now,  I  want  you  just  to 
take  notice  o'  that  creetur ;  it  won't  take  the  trouble 
to  move — you'll  see,"  said  the  man,  driving  slowly 
past,  and  leaving  the  bird  behind  them,  standing 
still. 

"  They  must  be  very  tame,"  said  Eosalie. 

"No,  they  ain't  nyther,  but  they've  got  a  heap  o' 
sense.  We  are  driving.  Now,  if  I  had  o'  been  afoot 
with  a  gun,  or  anything  that  looks  like  a  gun  to  it — 
say  a  stick — why,  it  would  a-taken  wing  in  a  minute. 
I've  took  notice  of  it  often  and  often.  Same  case  with 
a  deer — it'll  stand  right  still  and  look  at  you  going 
past  with  your  team ;  but  only  just  let  it  catch  its  eyes 
on  you  when  you're  walking  'long  o'  your  gun,  and 
it's  off  in  an  instant.  "Well  knowing  of  that,  you  see, 
I  often  just  quietly  lays  my  gun  down  in  the  bottom 
of  the  wagon,  to  be  ready  for  the  creeturs." 

In  desultory  talk  like  this,  which  nevertheless  gave 
our  young  immigrants  some  little  insight  into  the 
manners  of  the  country,  they  passed  over  the  three 
miles  of  intervening  prairie  land,  and  entered  Wolf's 
Grove. 

Wolf's  Grove  was  not  what  its  name  indicated — an 
isolated  piece  of  wood,  similar  to  those  that  at  wide 
intervals  dotted  the  prairie;  it  was  rather  a  portion  of 
that  vast,  unbroken,  interminable  forest,  projecting 
here  into  the  open  prairie  like  a  point  of  land  into  the 
sea,  but  stretching  back  and  back  hundreds  of  miles, 
and  even  to  the  banks  of  Lake  Superior.  Here  the 
old  primeval  forest  trees  were  of  gigantic,  almost 
fabulous  size,  but  thinly  scattered,  and  standing 
singly  apart,  like  the  outposts  of  a  vast  army. 

Half  a  mile  within  the  Grove,  where  the  trees  were 


THE  LOG  CABIN.  271 

thicker,  stood  the  cabin  originally  built  for  a  school 
and  meeting-house,  by  the  first  settlers.  There  was 
not  a  wood-shed,  a  fence,  a  fruit  tree,  nor  a  foot  of 
cultivated  ground,  around  it ;  nor  a  house,  nor  a  field, 
within  three  miles  of  it. 

Mark  Sutherland  and  Eosalie  alighted,  and  entered 
the  house,  while  the  driver  secured  his  horses  and 
gave  them  water.  The  cabin  was  unusually  large  and 
well  built,  being  nearly  thirty  feet  square,  and  con- 
structed of  huge  logs,  well  hewn,  and  well  cemented. 
The  cabin  fronted  south,  where  one  door  admitted 
into  the  only  room ;  opposite  this  door,  in  the  north 
wall,  stood  the  large,  open  fire-place.  The  room  was 
lighted  by  two  windows,  fronting  each  other,  east  and 
west.  The  floor  was  well  laid,  and  a  step-ladder  in 
the  corner,  between  the  fire-place  and  the  east  window, 
led  up  to  a  loft.  The  house  was  in  good  repair,  with 
the  single  exception  of  the  broken  windows. 

"A  very  different  abode  from  that  you  have  left, 
for  my  sake,  dear  Eosalie ;  and  yet,  if  you  only  knew, 
as  I  do,  how  much  better  this  is  than  any  other  log 
cabin  to  be  found  anywhere!  Why,  Hose,  it  is  a 
palace,  compared  to  some." 

"  I  know  it  is ;  and  I  only  wonder  that  it  has  been 
left  so  long  untenanted,  while  the  meanest  hovels  have 
been  all  taken  up." 

"  Why,  you  see,  my  dear,  this  house  is  too  remote 
from  the  village  for  any  one  but  a  farmer,  and  as  it 
stands  upon  the  reserved  school  lands,  of  course,  no 
farmer  can  cultivate  the  ground." 

"  Will  it  not  be  too  far  for  you  ?" 

"  With  me  it  is  different.  I  like  to  walk,  and  do 
not  grudge  my  steps.  The  three  miles'  walk,  morning 


272  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

and  evening,  will  do  me  good.  Nay,  more;  that  ex- 
ercise will  be  a  necessary  relief  from  the  sedentary  life 
of  the  office.  My  only  anxiety  will  be  in  leaving  you 
here  alone,  all  day.  Will  you  be  very  lonesome, 
dear?" 

"Lonesome?  I  don't  know.  I  should  be  lonesome 
anywhere  without  you,  Mark.  But  that  is  a  very  fool- 
ish weakness,  and  must  be  overcome,  of  course." 

"But  you  will  be  afraid  to  stay  here  all  day  long 
alone?" 

"  Afraid  ?  Of  what  ?  Why  should  I  be  ?  Is  there 
any  cause  of  fear  ?" 

"  No,  dear ;  no  cause  for  fear ;  but,  as  Emilia  said 
of  jealousy,  one  might  say  of  fear : 

'  That  fearful  souls  will  not  be  answered  so ; 
They  are  not  ever  fearful  for  a  catue, 
But  fearful  for  they  are  fearful' " 

"  Well,  I  am  not  afraid  with  or  without  a  cause. 
A  child  would  not  be  afraid  in  this  quiet  place,"  said 
Eosalie,  going  to  one  of  the  windows,  and  looking  out 
into  the  waving  woods. 

"  How  still — how  very  still — no  sound  to  be  heard 
but  the  rustle  of  the  leaves  and  the  ripple  of  water, 
that  must  be  near  I"  she  continued,  looking  from  the 
window,  while  Mark  walked  about  the  room  and  made 
notes  of  glass,  putty,  a  door  latch,  and  such  little 
matters  that  would  be  needed  to  be  brought  out  with 
their  furniture.  Then  they  went  out  where  the  driver 
stood  watering  his  horses,  and  where  the  only  sign  of 
previous  human  presence  was  afforded  by  the  narrow 
grass-grown  path,  leading  down  into  a  deep  dingle, 
where  the  ripple  of  water  was  heard. 


THE   LOG   CABIN.  273 

"If  you'd  like  a  drink,  there's  one  of  the  finest 
springs  in  the  whole  country  down  there,"  said  the 
landlord,  taking  a  tin  cup  from  the  wagon  and  handing 
it  to  Mark.  Eosalie  was  already  going  down  the  path. 
They  reached  the  spring,  and  found  the  water  cold 
and  clear  as  crystal.  They  drank,  and  congratulated 
themselves  upon  this  great  blessing,  and  then  went  up 
to  the  cabin,  and,  as  their  host  was  in  a  hurry  to 
be  off,  they  entered  the  carryall  to  return  to  the 
village. 

"  Well,  are  you  going  to  take  it  ?"  asked  the  driver, 
looking  around  as  he  took  the  reins  and  started. 

"  Why,  of  course.     I  had  already  taken  it." 

"I  knowed  that;  but  I  thought  when  she  saw  how 
lonesome  it  was,  she'd  object.  'Tain't  many  women — 
I  can  tell  you  that — who'd  agree  to  live  out  there,  by 
themselves,  in  that  lonesome  place,  and  you  gone  all 
day  long." 

"  I  am  sure  my  wife  prefers  it  to  an  inferior  cabin 
nearer  the  village." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  do,"  said  Eosalie. 

"Well,  every  one  to  their  taste,"  observed  the 
landlord,  cracking  his  whip,  and  making  his  horses  fly. 

They  reached  home  in  good  time  for  dinner. 

The  afternoon  was  employed  by  Mark  Sutherland 
in  collecting  together  necessary  provisions,  to  be  taken 
with  their  furniture  to  the  cabin ;  and  by  Rosalie — 
seated  by  the  window  of  her  part  of  the  upper  chamber 
— in  hemming  napkins,  preparatory  to  her  housekeep- 
ing, and  in  looking  out  upon  the  prairie  basking  in 
the  afternoon  sun,  and  upon  her  distant  home,  Wolf's 
Grove. 

lu  the  evening  the  hunters  returned  from  an  unsuc- 
17 


274  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEAIiL   RIVER. 

cessful  expedition ;  and  fatigued  and  mortified,  and 
inclined  to  be  silent  upon  the  subject  of  their  defeated 
enterprise,  they  gathered  around  the  supper  table. 
But  the  curiosity  of  the  hostess,  and  the  perseverance 
of  the  host,  at  last  elicited  from  them  the  fact  that 
they  had  not  even  hit  upon  the  track  of  the  wolves. 

The  next  day  was  fixed  upon  by  Mark  Sutherland 
and  his  wife  for  their  removal  to  Wolfs  Grove. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

GOING    TO     HOUSEKEEPING. 

ALL  the  forenoon  of  the  next  day,  Mr.  Garner,  the 
landlord,  was  absent  with  his  team ;  so  that  our  young 
people  were  obliged  to  defer  their  removal  until  the 
afternoon ;  and  they  spent  the  intervening  hours  in 
reviewing  their  possessions  and  supplying  those  few 
lust  articles  that  always  are  forgotten  in  a  first  pre- 
paration. 

At  two  o'clock,  the  capacious  wagon  of  the  hotel 
stood  before  the  door,  laden  with  furniture,  trunks, 
provisions,  and  so  forth.  A  tolerable  seat  was  arranged 
for  Rosalie  among  the  baggage ;  but  Mark,  on  foot, 
accompanied  the  landlord,  who  walked  at  the  head 
of  his  horses.  It  was  a  slow  progress ;  the  horses, 
already  fatigued  with  their  morning's  work,  never  got 
out  of  a  walk ;  so  that  it  was  nearly  four  o'clock  when 
they  entered  Wolfs  Grove  and  drew  up  before  the 
log  cabin.  While  his  horses  were  resting,  Mr.  Garner 


GOING  TO   HOUSEKEEPING.  275 

assisted  Mark  to  unlade  the  wagon,  and  take  in  the 
furniture  and  arrange  the  heaviest  part  of  it.  Then, 
having  watered  his  horses,  he  shook  hands  with  his 
late  guests,  wished  them  good  luck,  jumped  upon  his 
seat  in  front  of  the  wagon,  and  drove  off. 

And  Mark  and  Eosalie  found  themselves  standing, 
looking  at  each  other,  alone,  in  the  forest  cabin.  It 
was  a  moment  in  which  flashed  back  upon  each  the 
memory  of  their  whole  past  lives,  and  the  intense 
realization  of  their  present  position.  A  doubt,  whether 
to  weep  or  smile,  quivered  over  Eosalie's  features  for 
an  instant.  Mark  saw  the  tremor  of  her  lips  and  eye- 
lids, and  drew  her  to  his  heart ;  and  she  dropped  her 
head  upon  his  shoulder  and  smiled  through  her  tears. 
He  whispered,  cheerily — 

"  Never  mind,  dear;  you  will  be  one  of  the  honoured 
pioneer  women  of  the  West.  And  when  this  wilder- 
ness is  a  great  Commonwealth,  and  Shelton  is  a  great 
city,  and  I  am  an  old  patriarch,  we  will  have  much 
joy  in  telling  of  the  log  cabin  in  the  wil'derness,  where 
we  first  went  to  housekeeping.  And  now,  let  us  see 
if  we  cannot  get  this  place  into  a  little  order." 

The  room,  as  I  said,  was  large  and  square,  with  a 
window  east  and  west,  facing  each  other,  and  a  stone 
fire-place  north,  facing  a  broad  door  south.  The  walls 
were  unplastered,  but  well  planed  and  cemented,  and 
grey  with  time  and  use.  The  floor  was  of  rough  but 
sound  pine  plank.  A  broad  shelf  over  the  fire-place 
served  for  a  mantel-piece.  In  the  corner  between  the 
east  window  and  the  fire-place  stood  the  step-ladder 
leading  to  the  loft.  In  the  opposite  corner,  between 
the  west  window  and  the  fire-place,  were  three  trian- 
gular shelves,  that  did  duty  as  cupboard  or  beuufut. 


276  INDIA.      THE  FEARfe   OF  PEAKL   RIVER. 

Finally,  the  sashes  of  the  windows  were  good,  but  the 
glass  was  all  broken  out  of  them.  This  was  the  state 
of  the  room  when  Mark  and  Eosalie  looked  around 
it.  Mark  went  up  the  step-ladder  to  examine  the 
loft,  but  found  it  so  low  that  even  a  woman  could 
not  stand  upright  in  it.  It  was  therefore  given  up, 
except  as  a  place  to  stow  trunks,  boxes,  &c. 

Then  they  began  to  arrange  their  furniture.  It  was 
very  easily  done,  they  had  so  little — a  bedstead  with 
its  appointments,  a  table,  a  half-dozen  chairs,  and 
almost  everything  else  in  half-dozens.  The  form  of 
the  room  favoured  the  convenient  arrangement  of 
these  things.  The  bedstead  had  already  been  put  up 
in  the  corner  between  the  west  window  and  the  door, 
and  the  table  placed  in  the  corresponding  corner  be- 
tween the  door  and  the  east  window.  They  set  the 
chairs  in  their  places,  and  then  Mark  began  to  unpack 
the  china,  while  Eosalie  arranged  it  on  the  shelves  of 
the  corner  cupboard.  There  were  several  things — 
remnants  of  past  refinement — out  of  keeping  with 
their  present  condition;  among  them,  the  French 
china — that  looked  upon  their  rough  pine  shelves  as 
the  elegant  Mark  Sutherland  and  the  fair  and  delicate 
Kosalie  looked  in  their  rude  log  cabin — and  the  superb 
white  Marseilles  counterpanes,  whose  deep  fringes 
touched  the  rough  plank  floor;  and  the  tester  and 
valance  of  fine  and  beautiful  net- work  ;  and  lastly,  the 
tamboured  curtains  that  lay  upon  the  chairs,  ready  to 
be  put  up  when  Mark  should  have  mended  the 
windows.  These  were  certainly  out  of  place  here,  but 
it  could  not  be  helped ;  they  were  Rosalie's  little  per- 
sonal effects,  endeared  to  her  by  long  possession,  and 
by  their  having  been  the  property,  and  some  of  them 


GOING  TO   HOUSEKEEPING.  277 

— the  tamboured  curtains  and  the  net  valance,  for  in- 
stance— the  handiwork  of  her  mother.  By  sunset,  all 
was  arranged,  except  two  matters — the  broken  win- 
dows, with  which  now  the  young  master  of  the  house 
began  to  employ  himself,  taking  out  the  sashes  and 
laying  them  upon  the  table,  and  laying  pane  after 
pane  in  their  places ;  and  the  barrel  of  flour  which 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  with  a  quarter  of  beef 
laid  across  the  top  of  it — both  waiting  to  be  put  away 
out  of  sight,  in  a  proper  place ;  that  is,  supposing  a 
proper  place  could  be  found  on  premises  where  there 
was  neither  storehouse,  pantry,  nor  shed,  nor  even  a 
second  room. 

Mark  busied  himself  with  the  window  sashes,  trying 
pane  after  pane  in  the  empty  forms.  But  at  length, 
turning  around,  he  smiled  and  said — 

"It's  no  use,  Eose;  I'm  not  a  glazier,  and  so  care- 
fully as  I  thought  I  measured  the  sashes  and  the  glass, 
they  will  not  exactly  fit ;  and  I  have  no  diamond  here 
to  trim  them,  and  so  I  suppose  they  must  be  left  until 
to-morrow." 

And  he  replaced  the  empty  sashes  in  the  window 
frames.  Then,  seeing  the  neglected  barrel  of  flour,  he 
wheeled  it  up  against  the  wall,  near  the  door,  and  said 
it  must  remain  there  for  the  present ;  and  Eosalie  took 
a  coarse,  clean  table-cloth  and  spread  it  over  the  beef, 
that  still  lay  upon  the  top. 

"  And  now,  dear,"  he  said,  looking  around,  "  I  be- 
lieve we  are  as  well  fixed  as  we  can  be  for  the  present. 
Nothing  remains  but  to  get  supper ;  and,  as  I  was  out 
here  in  the  West  two  years  before  you  ever  saw  it,  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  I  hadn't  to  give  you  some  in- 
struction." 


278  INDIA.      THE  PEARL   OF   PEARL  RIVER. 

"  Ton  teach  me  to  cook  I  /,  my  uncle's  housekeeper 
for  two  years,  while  you  were  wandering  about  from 
town  to  town  1"  exclaimed  Eosalie. 

Mark  laughed,  and  bade  her  remember  that  when 
she  was  "  uncle's"  housekeeper  she  had  experienced 
cooks  at  her  command,  and  that  her  housekeeping 
duties  and  responsibilities  consisted  in  carrying  the 
keys  and  ordering  what  she  pleased  to  have  for  dinner. 
And  he  further  advised  her  to  recollect  that  she  was 
not  to  snap  up  her  liege  lord  in  that  way,  either! 
Whereupon  Eose  bade  him  mind  his  business  and  his 
briefs ;  for  that  she  should  snap  him,  and  box  his  ears, 
too,  whenever  the  spirit  moved  her.  She!  Mark 
snatched  her,  laughing,  to  his  bosom,  and  half  suffo- 
cated her  with  kisses,  and  then  holding  her  tight,  bade 
her  do  her  wickedest. 

"And,  Eose,"  he  exclaimed  merrily,  "I  do  not 
know  why  it  is ;  but  out  here,  in  this  cabin  of  the 
wilderness,  with  nobody  but  you  for  company,  I  feel 
as  if  the  restraints  of  society  and  of  maturity  had 
fallen  away,  and  restored  me  to  the  freedom  and  the 
wilfulness  and  the  irresponsible  wickedness  of  my 
boyhood.  And  oh!  little  one,  if  you  were  only  a 
great  deal  taller  and  stronger,  what  a  wrestle  we  would 
have!" 

And  he  gazed  down  on  her  there,  standing  within 
his  arms — so  small,  so  fair,  so  perfectly  helpless,  so 
utterly  in  his  power — and  all  the  wantonness  of  youth 
fled  from  before  her  helplessness  and  her  beauty, 
and  a  flood  of  unutterable  tenderness  rushed  over  his 
heart ;  and,  still  gazing  upon  her  with  infinite  love,  he 
said — 

"God  forever  bless  you — you  little,  little;  wee  thing; 


GOING  TO   HOUSEKEEPING.  279 

you  delicate,  beautiful  creature;  and  God  forever  for- 
sake me,  if  ever,  willingly,  I  give  you  a  moment's  pain 
or  sorrow !" 

Blushing  deeply,  Rose  withdrew  herself  from  his 
now  yielding  clasp,  and,  to  cover  her  girlish  embar- 
rassment, took  the  new  bucket  and  put  it  in  his  hands, 
requesting  him  to  go  to  the  spring,  and  bring  her 
fresh  water  to  fill  the  tea-kettle,  and  adding — 

"  You  shall  see  what  nice  biscuits  and  what  nice  tea 
I  can  make." 

Mark  took  the  pail  and  went  out,  and  disappeared 
down  the  path. 

Rosalie,  observing  the  floor  littered,  looked  around 
for  the  broom  to  sweep  it  up;  a'nd  then  laughed 
to  find  that,  with  all  their  getting,  they  had  got  no 
broom, 

Mark  came  in  with  the  pail  of  water,  set  it  down, 
and  said  he  would  go  and  get  some  brush  to  kindle  a 
fire.  And  while  he  was  gone,  Rosalie  put  water  in  a 
basin  to  wash  her  hands  preparatory  to  making  the 
biscuits ;  and  then  she  discovered  that  they  had  for- 
gotten soap  also.  And  while  she  stood  in  dismay, 
wondering  what  else  might  have  been  omitted,  Mark 
re-entered  with  a  pile  of  brush  on  his  shoulders,  "  like 
Christian  with  his  bundle  of  sin,"  he  said.  He  threw 
it  down  upon  the  hearth,  and  began  to  look  around, 
and  then  he  broke  into  a  gay,  prolonged  laugh. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Mark  ?  Are  you  daring  to 
laugh  at  me,  with  my  sleeves  and  skirt  tucked  up  ?" 

"  O,  Rosalie,  we  have  heads,  child !  we  have  heads 
— and  so  have  cabbages,  when  they  have  come  to 
maturity." 


280  IXDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

"  Well,  don't  laugh  yours  off  your  shoulders,  but 
tell  me  what  you're  laughing  at!" 

"  We  have  not  brought  a  match  nor  a  candle." 

"  Oh !  no !     You  don't  say  so  ?" 

"  It  is  a  positive  fact." 

"  We  have  forgotten  soap  and  brooms  too ;  we  have 
forgotten  everything." 

"  No,  not  everything ;  only  a  few  things  that  make 
everything  useless." 

"What's  to  be  done?  We  can't  cook  supper  to- 
night, or  even  breakfast  to-morrow  morning,  without 
a  fire." 

"  No.  Let's  see — I  know  if  one  rubs  two  pieces  of 
wood  together  long  enough,  they  will  ignite ;  and  I 
know  of  other  processes  by  which  fire  may  be  kindled; 
but,  after  all,  I  think  the  quickest  and  the  surest  way 
will  be  for  me  to  go  back  to  Shelton  this  evening, 
and  get  the  matches ;  and  then  I  can  also  get  soap, 
a  broom,  and  my  pistols,  which  were  likewise  for- 
gotten." 

"Go  back  to  Shelton  this  evening!  Walk  three 
miles  to  Shelton,  and  back  this  evening,  and  the  sun 
already  down !  You  will  be  tired  to  death." 

"  No,  dear ;  I  can  walk  that  three  miles  in  about  an 
hour,  get  the  things  in  ten  minutes ;  borrow  Mr. 
Garner's  saddle-horse  to  ride  back,  and  take  him  home 
again  in  the  morning,  when  I  go  to  the  office.  And 
my  brave  little  girl  will  not  be  afraid  to  stay  here  a 
a  few  hours  by  herself?" 

"  Afraid  ?     No ;  surely  not." 

"You  can  fasten  the  door  with  this  wooden  pin,  if 
you  wish  to  do  so." 

"Oh!  I  shall  not  wish  to  fasten  the  door.     I  shall 


GOING  TO   HOUSEKEEPING.  281 

sit  on  the  sill  and  watch  the  stars,  and  see  if  I  can 
read  our  future  destiny  on  their  orbs,  and  wait  for 
the  moon  to  rise,  and  for  you  to  come." 

"  No,  you  must  not  do  that,  Eose.  The  woods  are 
damp,  and  the  evening  air  chill.  And,  now  I  think 
of  it,  this  cabin  will  be  too  cool  for  you,  with  this 
draught  through  the  open  windows.  Let's  see  if  we 
cannot  do  something  with  them.  If  you  had  anything 
to  tack  up  against  them,  Eosalie  ?" 

She  went  to  a  box  and  took  out  two  sheets,  each  of 
which,  doubled,  was  tacked  against  a  window,  and  be- 
cause the  breeze  still  lifted  them,  a  few  tacks  were 
driven  in  the  sides  and  bottoms  of  these  temporary 
blinds,  to  keep  them  down.  Having  finished  that  job, 
Mark  pulled  down  and  buttoned  his  wristbands,  put 
on  his  coat,  kissed  Rosalie,  bade  her  keep  up  her  heart, 
for  that  he  should  be  back  at  ten,  or  a  little  after, 
and  departed.  She  stood  at  the  door,  watching  him, 
until  he  disappeared  within  the  intervening  trees,  and 
then  she  turned  and  entered  the  darkening  house. 

Did  Mark  Sutherland — did  Rosalie — dream  of  all 
that  should  happen  before  they  should  meet  again? 
Did  either  imagine  the  grim  horror  of  the  next  few 
hours  ?  It  was  a  night  that  one  of  them  never,  in  after 
life,  forgot — whose  fearful  memory  haunted  thoughts 
by  day,  and  visions  by  night,  when  the  dreamer  would 
start  from  sleep,  and,  with  convulsive  shivers  and  cold 
perspiration,  gaze  around  in  terror  that  could  not  be 
reassured. 


282          INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

A    NIGHT    OF    FEAR. 

EOSALIE  entered  the  house,  and  shut  the  door  be- 
hind her.  It  was  very  dark,  for  twilight  had  departed, 
and  the  moon  had  not  yet  arisen.  Although  the  door 
and  windows  were  closed,  the  room  was  still  suffi- 
ciently cool,  and  Rosalie  might  have  remained  plea- 
santly seated  in  her  sole  rocking  chair,  and  wrapped  in 
reverie,  through  all  the  lonely  hours  until  her  husband 
should  return,  but  for  one  trifling  circumstance;  tri- 
fling in  itself,  yet  fraught  with  the  most  appalling  dan- 
ger, and  the  most  ghastly  consequences.  The  fresh 
carnal  smell  of  that  quarter  of  newly-killed  beef  that 
lay  across  the  top  of  the  barrel,  only  lightly  covered 
over  with  the  table-cloth,  began  to  fill  the  closed  room, 
and  soon  became  intolerable  to  Rosalie's  fine  senses. 

For  the  sake  of  fresh,  pure  air,  she  went  and  opened 
the  door,  and  sat  down  upon  the  door  step.  There 
she  sat,  gazing  into  the  dark  mysterious  depths  of  the 
forest,  or  up  to  the  deep  blue,  starlit  sky,  listening  to 
the  chirp  of  the  field-cricket,  the  grass-hopper,  and  the 
katydid,  those  merry  little  night  warblers,  who  begin 
their  concerts  when  the  birds  have  finished  theirs — 
and  remembering  all  her  past  life,  enjoying  her  pre- 
sent, and  dreaming  and  hoping  of  the  future.  She 
thought  of  her  palace  home,  where,  circled  with  affec- 
tion, she  had  still  wandered  with  a  strange  unrest,  and 
wasted  with  a  vague  longing;  she  thought  of  her  pre- 


A  NIGHT   OF   FEAR.  283 

sent  home,  as  poor,  as  humble,  as  rude,  as  it  well  could 
be,  yet  yielding  a  fulness  of  content — of  measureless 
content — that  filled  her  heart  to  overflowing  with  grati- 
tude and  love  to  God  for  the  joy  and  peace  that 
abounded.  And  she  thought  of  their  future ;  it  might 
bring  toil,  privation,  penury,  disappointment,  and 
death,  but  it  could  not  deprive  her  of  the  jewel  of  her 
soul,  LOVE.  That  word — that  idea — was  still  the  cen- 
tre of  her  soul's  circle,  around  which  thought  and  feel- 
ing still  revolved.  She  sank  into  a  dim,  delicious  reve- 
rie, and,  wrapped  in  blissful  dreams,  the  world  around 
her  disappeared.  The  cheerful  chirp  of  the  crickets 
and  the  katydids  was  no  longer  heard — the  deep  blue, 
star-lit  sky  no  longer  watched — the  dark,  mysterious 
forest,  with  its  ever  untrodden  depths,  no  longer  seen., 
She  was  like  a  slumberer  "  smiling  as  in  delightful 
visions,  on  the  brink  of  a  dread  chasm."  There  was 
a  far-off,  light,  multitudinous  tramp,  like  the  patter 
of  distant  rain-drops.  She  knew  it  not,  she  heard  it 
not.  "Senseless  as  the  dead  was  she,  to  all  around, 
beneath,  above."  Senseless  as  the  dead — aye,  sense- 
less as  the  dead — to  the  near  approach  of  a  dreadful 
death  !  Oh,  surely  this  was  not  her  unguarded  hour ! 
She  would  not  be  left  to  perish  in  her  youth  and 
beauty — to  perish  while  wrapped  in  her  visions  of 
love  and  devotion.  Oh,  surely  her  guardian  angel 
must  have  been  at  his  post.  He  was !  For,  as  she  sat 
there  in  the  door,  her  thin  white  dress  distinct  in  the 
darkness,  her  fair  pale  face  bowed  on  her  hand,  and 
her  beautiful  light  hair  damp  with  dew — a  shudder 
thrilled  her  frame.  She  arose,  and,  shivering  with  a 
damp  dullness,  retired  into  the  house;  but  before  she 


284  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

shut  the  door,  she  turned  her  eyes  once  more  from 
earth  to  sky,  and — 

"  It  is  a  most  beautiful  night,"  she  said ;  "  a  lovely 
night,  '  not  made  for  sleep.'  " 

A  singular  low  noise  caught  her  ear,  and  ceased. 

"That  sounds  like  a  sudden  fall  of  rain  stopped,"  she 
said,  and  paused  to  listen.  Not  hearing  the  noise 
again,  she  closed  the  door ;  and  without  in  the  least 
degree  intending  to  do  it,  quite  mechanically  she  did 
the  wisest  thing  that  could  have  been  done.  She 
barred  the  door,  and  then  she  seated  herself  once  more 
in  the  rocking-chair.  The  room  was  intensely  dark. 
The  faint  light  that  stole  in  at  the  sheeted  window 
only  seemed  a  thinner  blackness.  She  sat  gently 
rocking  to  and  fro,  and  gradually  relapsing  into 
reverie. 

It  was  soon  rudely  broken  through.  Still  like  the 
sudden  heavy  fall  of  rain-drops  on  forest  leaves,  mul- 
titudinous footsteps  thronged  pattering  around  the 
cabin — pawing  at  its  walls !  Startled,  astonished,  yet 
not  alarmed,  Rosalie  listened.  Then  a  low  ground 
swell  of  a  growl  arose,  murmuring  on  the  air,  and 
thrilling  every  nerve  with  awe.  It  was  low,  deep,  and 
threatening,  as  the  thrilling  bass  string  of  the  harpsi- 
chord when  rudely  swept  by  some  idler's  hand. 
Rosalie  stood  up;  and,  resting  her  hand  upon  the 
rocking-chair,  listened  more  intently.  The  sound 
ceased — all  was  still  as  death.  She  crept  cautiously 
to  the  window,  and,  pulling  aside  slightly  the  edge  of 
the  sheet-blind,  where  it  was  tacked  to  the  side  of  the 
frame,  she  looked  out.  The  night  was  deeply  dark, 
though  the  sky  was  still  studded  with  stars — the  ground 
was  also  lighted  with  stars — twin  stars,  scattered  all 


A  NIGHT  OF   FEAR. 

about.  At  first  sight  she  took  these  for  lightning- 
bugs  ;  but,  as  she  gazed,  she  knew  them  to  be  the 
phosphoric,  excited  eyes  of  couchant  wild  beasts. 
And,  at  the  same  instant  that  she  made  this  appalling 
discovery,  the  whole  pack  burst,  in  full  cry,  upon  the 
cabin,  tearing  at  the  walls,  and  howling  furiously  with 
hunger,  rage,  and  frantic  desire.  Rosalie  tottered 
back  to  her  chair,  and  sank  into  it.  The  whole 
horrible  truth,  in  all  its  detail  of  cause,  effect,  and 
consequence,  burst  with  overwhelming  force  upon  her 
senses.  It  was  a  pack  of  hungry  wolves  1 — the  same 
pack  that  the  Indian  hunters  had  pursued  into  the 
neighbourhood  of  Shelton — the  same  pack  that  had 
been  the  terror  of  the  settlement  since  their  discovery 
near  it.  They  had  been  drawn  to  the  cabin  by  the 
scent  of  blood  from  the  newly-killed  beef,  and  there 
was  no  light  in  the  house  to  fright  them  off.  Sick — 
oh,  sick,  and  nearly  swooning  with  deadly  terror — 
Rosalie  still  charged  her  soul  "to  hold  her  body 
strengthened"  for  the  crisis. 

She  looked  around  in  the  darkness,  trying  to  think 
of  some  means  of  defence,  security,  or  escape,  but 
found  none.  If  she  should  open  the  door  and  fly  from 
the  house,  she  must  inevitably  fall  an  instant  victim 
to  their  rapacity.  That  plan  was  rejected  at  once,  as 
not  to  be  thought  of,  except  as  the  drowning  think  of 
catching  at  straws.  And  then  her  eyes  flew  wildly 
around  in  the  darkness  for  means  of  defence  or  retreat. 
Alas!  there  was  not  a  chance  of  either.  She  could 
go  up  into  the  loft,  or  climb  up  into  the  chimney,  or 
bury  herself  in  the  bed ;  but  an  instant's  reflection 
convinced  her  that  there  was  no  place  within  the  walls 
to  which  the  fell  wolves  would  not  climb  with  mure 


INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

facility  than  she  could,  and  no  retreat  to  which  their 
keen  scent  would  not  guide  them,  and  from  which 
they  would  not  drag  her  to  death.  And  oh !  in  the 
midst  of  all  her  desperate  thoughts,  their  frantic  onsets 
to  the  walls,  their  horrible  baying,  barking,  and  tear- 
ing, nearly  drove  her  mad  with  terror.  Every  instant 
she  expected  death !  How  thin,  how  slight  the  barrier 
that  kept  them  out !  The  moment  they  should  chance 
to  strike  the  broken  windows,  protected  only  by  the 
thin  sheets,  and  so  find  the  way  of  entrance,  that  very 
moment  must  the  cabin  be  filled  by  the  hungry  and 
ravening  beasts.  For  an  instant,  perhaps,  the  beef, 
whose  scent  had  drawn  them  to  the'  spot,  might 
divert  them  from  herself,  but  only  for  an  instant,  for 
that  flesh  would  be  swiftly  torn  in  pieces  and  devoured ; 
and  then  what  a  fate  would  be  hers  I  To  perish  so 
sharply  and  suddenly,  and  by  such  a  ghastly  death ! 
And  not  of  herself  alone  did  she  think  in  that  hour  of 
dread,  but  of  all  whom  her  death  would  appal  and 
afflict;  and  of  him,  oh!  of  him  whom  it  would  most 
awfully  bereave.  For  herself — for  her  own  person — 
it  would  not  be  so  dreadful,  after  all,  she  thought. 
The  sharp  agony  would  soon  be  over — in  a  very  few- 
minutes  most  likely — and  then  all  that  was  mortal  and 
perishable  of  her — her  small,  frail  body — would  be 
totally  destroyed  ;  and  her  soul,  she  trusted,  would  be 
at  rest.  But,  of  the  distant  loved  ones,  whose  hearts 
would  thrill  with  horror  at  hearing  of  her  fate,  and 
of  him  whose  life  would  be  made  desolate  by  her  loss 
— whose  arm,  whose  brain  would  be  stricken  power- 
less by  the  terrible  doom  of  her  who  was  at  once  his 
inspiration  and  his  object— this,  oh  !  f/n'n  was  the  bit- 
terness of  death!  But  oh!  the  frightful,  the  mad- 


A   NIGHT   OF   FEAR.  287 

dening  howls  of  the  demoniacs  outside  scattered  all 
her  thoughts  so  quickly,  it  was  impossible  to  reflect 
to  any  good  end.  But  suddenly  athwart  the  stormy 
chaos  of  deafening  noise,  despairing  terror,  and  dis- 
tracting thought,  darted,  like  lightning,  an  inspira- 
tion !  She  had  grown  conscious  that  the  storm  out- 
side had  drawn  itself  to  a  point  nearest  the  spot  where 
the  barrel  and  the  meat  stood ;  and  the  wolves  were 
scratching  and  tearing  furiously,  and  hurling  them- 
selves at  the  wall,  baying  all  the  while  in  full  cry,  or 
barking  and  fighting  among  themselves,  like  demons. 
And  now  her  idea  was  further  to  decoy  them  from 
the  windows,  the  weak  parts  of  the  cabin.  She  went 
to  the  barrel.  She  could  not  lift  the  quarter  of  beef, 
but  she  pushed  it  off,  letting  it  fall  heavily  upon  the 
floor.  For  an  instant  the  noise  outside  ceased,  but 
soon  burst  forth  again  with  renewed  violence.  She 
dragged  the  beef  close  as  she  could  get  it  to  the  door, 
and  then  she  got  a  knife,  and  close  to  the  floor  she 
cut  the  flesh  in  gashes,  so  that  the  juices  might  run 
under  the  door  to  the  outside,  and  draw  and  hold  the 
frantic  wolves  to  that  spot.  For  this  she  knew  was 
the  safest  place  of  attack — it  was  the  farthest  removed 
from  the  windows,  and  the  door  was  too  strong  and 
well  barred  to  give  way.  She  knew  this,  but  yet 
when  it  rattled  violently  at  their  furious  assaults,  her 
very  heart  nearly  died  within  her. 

She  thought  of  her  husband's  return  with  extreme 
anxiety ;  she  feared  full  as  much  as  she  hoped  it.  She 
had  perfect  faith  in  his  courage  and  presence  of  mind, 
and  she  knew,  besides,  he  would  be  well  armed  when 
ho  should  return ;  and  yet  she  sickened  with  fear  for 
him  \vhen  she  thought  of  that  return.  She  remembered 


288  INDIA.      THE  PEAKL  OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

that  he  said  he  would  be  back  by  ten.  She  wished  to 
know  the  hour.  It  was  still  pitch  dark,  but  she  went 
to  the  chimney  shelf,  and  opened  the  clock,  and  with 
her  delicate  fingers  and  nice  touch  she  felt  for  the 
hour  and  the  minute  hands,  and  for  the  raised  figures, 
and  ascertained  that  it  was  already  after  ten.  She  felt 
again,  and  was  sure  there  was  no  mistake.  After  ten, 
and  Mark  not  yet  returned !  What  could  have  detained 
him  ?  This  source  of  anxiety  was  beginning  to  add 
its  sting  to  the  others,  when  a  new  ground  of  alarm, 
of  despair,  fixed  her  panic-stricken  where  she  stood. 
The  wolves,  who  had  not  ceased  to  howl  and  cry,  and 
hurl  themselves  against  the  walls,  now  led  by  a  surer 
instinct,  were  careering  around  and  around  the  cabin, 
leaping  up  at  the  walls,  and  leaping  up  at  the  window- 
sashes,  which  shook  at  each  bound  !  The  clamour  out- 
side was  now  deafening,  appalling.  She  heard  the 
frail  sashes  shake — she  heard  them  give  way — she 
heard  the  whole  hungry,  horrible  pack  burst  with  full 
cry  into  the  room;  and  mortal  terror  whirled  away 
her  consciousness,  and,  with  an  agonizing  cry  to 
Heaven,  she  fell  to  the  floor  insensible. 

*  ****** 
When  consciousness  came  back,  Eosalie  found 
herself  lying  upon  her  bed.  The  room  was  quiet, 
cool,  and  dimly  lighted  by  a  candle  on  the  hearth, 
whose  glare  was  shaded  from  her  eyes  by  an  inter- 
vening chair  with  a  shawl  thrown  over  it.  Mark  was 
standing  by  her,  bathing  her  face  with  cold  water. 
As  memory  returned,  she  shuddered  violently  several 
times;  and  her  first  words,  gasped  out,  were,  "The 
wolves!  Oh!  the  wolves!" 


A  NIGHT   OF  FEAR.  289 

"They  are  gone,  love;  put  to  flight!"  said  Mark 
Sutherland,  soothingly. 

"And  you — youf  she  asked,  wildly  gazing  at 
him. 

"  Safe,  as  you  see,  love !"  he  answered,  as  he  lifted 
her  head,  and  placed  a  glass  of  cold  water  to  her 
lips. 

"  How  did  it  happen,  Mark  ?"  she  questioned,  as  he 
laid  her  head  once  more  upon  the  pillow. 

"  What  happen,  love  ?" 

"My  escape,  your  safety,  and  the  flight  of  the 
wolves." 

"  Dear  Eose,  we  had  better  not  revert  to  the  subject 
again  to-night.  Try  to  compose  yourself." 

"  I  cannot !  If  I  close  my  eyes  and  lie  still,  I  hear 
again  those  dreadful  howls — I  see  again  those  glaring 
eyes  and  ghastly  fangs — I  live  over  again  the  terrible 
danger." 

"  My  dear  Eosalie,  there  was  really  no  very  great 
danger,  and  it  was  all  over  as  soon  as  I  reached  the 
spot  with  fire-arms,"  said  Mark,  calmly,  and  wishing 
to  depreciate  the  peril  she  had  passed,  and  restore  her 
to  quietness. 

"Yet  tell  me  about  it — if  you  will  talk  to  me 
about  the  escape  I  shall  not  brood  over  the  appal- 
ling" 

She  shuddered,  and  was  silent. 

"  There  is  really  very  little  to  tell,  Kosalie.  As  I  ap- 
proached the  house  on  my  return  home  I  heard  the 
howling  of  the  wolves.  .  I  surmised  the  truth  in- 
stantly— that  they  were  the  same  pack  the  neighbours 
had  been  after  for  the  last  few  days — that  the  smell 
of  the  fresh  meat  we  had  brought  over  the  prairie  and 
18 


290  INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

into  the  forest  had  decoyed  them  to  the  cabin,  from 
whence  there  was  no  light  to  scare  them.  I  hurried 
on  as  fast  as  possible,  and  soon  came  upon  the  cabin, 
and  found  a  pack  of  perhaps  a  dozen  wolves  baying 
around  the  house,  and  leaping  and  scratching  at  the 
walls.  They  were  prairie  wolves — a  small,  cowardly 
race — who  go  in  packs,  and  who  are  generally  very 
easily  driven  off.  I  first  of  all  picked  up  and  threw  a 
billet  of  wood  at  them.  I  forgot,  dear  Eose,  that  our 
window  had  no  better  defence  than  a  sheet,  or  else  I 
never  thought  of  it  at  all,  for  when  I  threw  the  piece 
of  wood,  it  not  only  passed  through  the  pack  of  wolves, 
but  on  through  the  window-place,  too — scattering  the 
animals,  but  also  making  an  opening,  through  which 
several  of  them,  in  their  efforts  to  escape,  leaped  into 
the  house" 

"  It  was  then  I  fainted,"  said  Eosalie. 

"  I  found  you  lying  on  the  floor,  insensible." 

"But  you  and  the  wolves?" 

"  A  very  short  skirmish  served  to  put  the  enemy  to 
flight.  I  succeeded  in  killing  only  two  of  them — two 
that  had  leaped  before  me  in  at  the  window — the  others 
escaped." 

As  Rbsalie  continued  to  tremble,  he  added  : 

"  They  are  really  not  a  formidable  antagonist,  my 
dear.  I  have  heard  a  pioneer  say,  that  he  would  as 
lief  as  not  tumble  himself,  unarmed,  down  into  a 
dingle  full  of  them,  and  trust  to  his  muscular  strength 
and  courage  to  conquer.  That  might  have  keen  all 
boasting ;  still  I  know  they  are  a  dastardly  race ;  and 
if  you  had  known  it,  and  could  have  raised  a  great 
noise,  and  thrown  some  heavy  missiles  among  them 


CABIN- KEEPING.  291 

from  the  loft  above,  you  would  have  put  them  all  to 
flight." 

"  Ah,  but  if  they  had  got  in  while  I  lay  here  in- 
sensible from  terror,  they  would  have  destroyed  me," 
thought  Eosalie.  But,  unwilling  to  give  pain,  she 
withheld  the  expression  of  those  terrible  thoughts. 

More  words  of  soothing  influence  Mark  dropped 
into  her  ear,  until  at  length  her  spirits  were  calmed, 
and  she  was  enabled  to  join  him  in  earnest  thanks- 
giving to  Heaven  for  their  preservation.  He  fanned 
her  till  she  dropped  asleep.  And  then,  late  as  it  was, 
he  went  and  busied  himself  with  many  things  that 
remained  to  be  done — putting  glass  in  the  windows, 
cutting  up  and  salting  down  the  nearly  fatal  quarter 
of  beef,  ripping  off  the  head  of  the  barrel  of  flour, 
&e. — and  doing  all  so  quietly  as  not  to  disturb  the 
sleeper. 


CHAPTER   XXIIL 

CABIN-KEEPING. 

"There  is  probation  to  decree, 
Many  and  long  must  the  trials  he; 
Thou  shalt  victoriously  endure, 
If  that  brow  is  true  and  those  eyes  are  sure." — Browning. 

A  NIGHT'S  undisturbed  repose  restored  Rosalie's 
exhausted  nervous  energy.  The  young  couple  arose 
early  in  the  morning  to  begin  their  first  day  of  house, 
or  rather  cabin-keeping,  for  the  difference  of  style 
requires  a  difference  of  term.  They  had  anticipated 


292     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

toil  and  privation,  and  had  thought  they  were  pre- 
pared to  meet  them.  But  it  is  one  thing  to  think  in 
a  general  way  about  work  and  want,  and  quite  another 
to  feel  them  in  all  their  irritating  and  exhausting 
details ;  and  the  first  day  of  housekeeping  in  the  forest 
log  cabin  taught  them  this  difference.  They  had  no 
garden,  no  cow,  no  poultry,  and  there  was  no  market 
where  to  procure  the  necessaries  that  these  should 
have  supplied.  Everything  that  could  be  bought  at 
the  village  shops  had  been  provided;  yet  their  first 
breakfast  consisted  of  coffee  without  cream  or  milk, 
..and  biscuits  without  butter.  But  mutual  love,  and 
hope,  and  trust,  sweetened  the  meal,  and  even  their 
little  privations  furnished  matters  of  jest.  And  when 
breakfast  was  over,  and  Mark  was  preparing  to  bid 
his  "little  sweetheart,"  as  he  called  her,  farewell  for 
the  da}',  and  promising  to  return  by  four  o'clock,  she 
gaily  asked  him  what  he  would  like  for  dinner,  and  he 
replied  by  ordering  a  bill  of  fare,  that  might  have  been 
furnished  by  some  famous  Eastern  or  European  hotel. 
Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  their  merriment,  she  thought 
of  the  wolves  and  trembled — yet  restrained  the  expres- 
sion of  her  fears.  But  the  eye  of  affection  read  her 
thoughts,  and  Mark  hastened  to  assure  her  that  there 
was  no  more  to  dread — that  the  cabin  was  the  last 
place  on  earth  that  the  same  animals  would  seek  again 
— that  they  would  not  come  within  sight  of  its  smok- 
ing chimney.  Her  trust  in  his  judgment  and  his 
truthfulness  completely  reassured  her  doubting  heart, 
and  set  it  at  perfect  rest.  And  she  let  him  go  to  his 
business  with  a  gay,  glad  smile. 

She  watched  him  winding  up  the  little  narrow  path, 
and  disappearing  among  the  trees,  and  then  she  turned 


CABIN- KEEPING.  293 

into  the  house,  to  wash  up  the  breakfast  service  and 
set  the  room  in  order.  It  was  a  queer  day — that  first 
one  that  she  spent  alone  in  her  cabin.  After  arrang- 
ing her  corner  cupboard  and  sweeping  her  room,  and 
making  a  few  little  alterations  and  improvements  in 
the  disposition  of  her  lighter  furniture,  she  unpacked 
her  sewing  materials  and  sat  down  in  the  door  to 
needlework.  The  primeval  forest  all  around  her, 
even  up  to  the  house,  the  blue  sky  above,  and  the  log 
cabin,  in  the  door  of  which  she  sat,  was  all  that  met 
the  eye;  the  trilling  songs  of  the  wood  birds,  and  the 
ripple-ripple  of  the  trickling  spring  in  the  deep  dell 
near,  was  all  that  met  the  ear.  And  yet  she  was  not 
lonesome — she  loved  this  solitude — the  manifest  pre- 
sence of  God  filled  it,  and  heart  and  mind  received 
the  holy,  the  elevating,  the  joyous  influence.  The 
day  advanced — the  sparkling  freshness  of  the  morning 
mellowed  into  noon.  And  then  she  got  up  and  took 
a  pitcher  and  went  down  to  the  spring,  that  seemed 
to  have  been  calling  her  in  its  merry  voice  all  the 
morning.  A  narrow,  steep  path  down  into  the  dingle 
led  to  the  spring,  and  beyond  it  arose  a  high  hill, 
heavily  wooded,  like  all  the  land  about  there.  She 
filled  her  pitcher,  and  returned  to  the  house  to  take 
her  lonely  noontide  luncheon.  And  then,  as  the 
meridian  sun  was  pouring  its  rays  in  at  the  door, 
which  you  know  faced  the  south,  she  removed  her 
needlework  to  the  west  window,  and  resumed  her 
sewing.  Day  waned;  nor  was  she  conscious  of  its 
waning  until  the  burning  sun  began  to  glance  in  at 
her  through  the  window  where  she  sat,  and  oblige 
her  to  cake  her  work  to  the  opposite  one — smiling  at 
the  conceit  of  being  chased  from  place  to  place  by 


294:  INDIA.      THE  PEARL   OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

Apollo.  She  sat  at  the  cool  east  window,  until  the 
striking  of  the  clock  warned  her  that  it  was  time  to 
prepare  the  afternoon  meal,  which  was  to  comprise 
"dinner  and  supper  together."  She  arose,  and  put 
away  her  work.  But  what  was  there  to  be  got  for 
dinner,  after  all?  Tea  without  milk,  bread  without 
butter,  and  salted  beef  without  vegetables.  A  poor 
meal  certainly  to  set  before  an  epicurean,  such  as 
Mr.  Sutherland  had  been,  for  of  herself  she  never 
thought. 

Suddenly  she  recollected  having  seen  some  wild 
plum  trees  growing  on  the  hill  beyond  the  spring, 
and  she  knew  the  fruit  should  now  be  ripe,  and  she 
thought  she  would  go  and  get  some,  to  make  a  pie. 
No  sooner  thought  than  attempted.  She  seized  her 
bonnet,  caught  up  a  little  basket,  and  set  out.  She 
hastened  down  the  dingle  path,  crossed  the  run,  and 
climbed  the  hill.  She  reached  its  summit,  and  stopped 
to  breathe,  and  rest  for  a  moment.  The  sudden  glory 
of  the  extended  landscape  held  her  spell-bound.  On 
one  side  of  the  forest — a  boundless  ocean  of  waving 
greenery — spreading  on  and  on,  thousands  of  miles, 
for  aught  she  knew,  after  it  was  lost  under  the  horizon. 
On  the  other  side,  the  vast  prairie,  with  its  dotted 
groves,  like  oases  in  desert,  and  in  the  distance  the 
river,  and  the  village,  and  the  opposite  shore  of  Mis- 
souri Territory.  For  a  few  minutes  she  stood  in  en- 
chanted admiration ;  and  then,  remembering  that  she 
had  no  time  to  lose,  addressed  herself  to  the  errand 
upon  which  she  came,  promising  herself,  after  ten, 
when  they  should  be  at  leisure,  to  return  with  Mark, 
and  view  the  landscape  over  by  moonlight.  The  wild 
plum  trees  furnished  a  rich  harvest.  She  had  only 


* 
CABIN- KEEPING.  295 

to  shake  the  slight  and  graceful  shaft,  and  a  shower 
of  ripe  fruit  fell  around  her.  She  quickly  filled  her 
basket ;  and  then,  with  her  girlish  love  of  change,  she 
returned  to  the  house  by  another  way.  By  this  little 
route  through  the  thicket,  she  observed,  late  as  it  was 
in  the  season,  a  profusion  of  wild  raspberries,  of  un- 
usual size  and  richness.  She  stopped,  in  pleased  sur- 
prise, to  gather  them,  and  heaped  them  up  on  top  of 
the  plums,  as  many  as  the  basket  would  hold. 

Delighted  with  these  woodland  treasures — such  a 
delicious  addition  to  her  frugal  board — she  returned 
to  the  cabin,  and  began  to  prepare  their  evening  meal. 
Eosalie  had  not  superintended  her  uncle's  Virginia 
farm-house  for  two  years,  to  no  purpose.  She  was  a 
skilful  little  cook.  It  was  not  much  to  prepare  a  meal 
twice  a  day,  for  two  persons ;  besides,  her  "  good  will 
was  to  it."  And  I  doubt  if,  in  all  the  elegance  and 
luxury  of  her  Southern  home,  she  was  ever  gayer, 
gladder,  happier,  than  when  preparing,  with  her  own 
hands,  this  first  little  supper  in  her  log  cabin.  The 
meal  was  soon  ready.  The  damask  table  linen  and 
the  delicate  china  that  adorned  the  table,  and  the  fair 
girl  that  hovered  around  it,  I  was  about  to  say,  were 
somewhat  out  of  keeping  with  the  house.  But  that 
would  not  have  been  true;  for  there  was  nothing 
mean,  poor,  or  squalid,  in  the  surroundings  of  the  log 
cabin.  It  had  a  wild,  woodland  air — there  was  as  yet 
nothing  to  offend  the  most  aesthetic  taste.  The  arrange- 
ment of  the  table  was  complete — the  last  things  set 
upon  it  being  the  delicate  pastry  and  the  cut-glass 
bowl  of  raspberries,  powdered  with  sugar.  But,  there 
was  no  cream  or  butter;  and  this  was  Rosalie's  sole 
regret,  as  she  gave  a  pleased  glance  at  the  whole  effect, 


296     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

and  then  went  to  eacli  window,  and  put  aside  the 
muslin  curtains  to  let  in  the  evening  breeze,  and  the 
green  woodland  prospect.  As  she  turned  from  the 
window,  she  was  startled  by  a  thump  upon  the  floor, 
and  the  exclamation  of — 

"  There  I  she  sent  you  these  !  And  I  wonder  why 
you  couldn't  o'  corned  arter  them  yourself!" 

And  with  astonishment  Rosalie  saw  standing  in  the 
room  a  large,  fair-complexioned,  rniddle-aged  man, 
clothed  in  coarse  blue  linen  jacket  and  trousers,  with 
a  waiter's  white  apron  tied  before  him.  He  had  just 
thumped  on  the  floor  a  large  basket  filled  with  vege- 
tables. He  still  held  in  his  hand  a  tin  pail,  with  a  tin 
pan  covered  upon  the  top  of  it. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  inquired  she. 

"Billy.  Here's  the  butter.  Where  am  I  to  pour 
the  milk?"  said  the  man,  lifting  the  little  pan  that 
contained  a  pound  print,  and  displaying  half  a  gallon 
of  milk  in  the  pail. 

"  Who  sent  these  ?"  asked  Rose,  in  surprise. 

"She!  Can't  you  empty  the  milk?  I've  got  to 
carry  the  bucket  back." 

"  I  am  afraid  there  is  some  mistake,"  said  Rose,  hesi- 
tating. "  Who  did  you  say  sent  you  ?" 

"1/er,  I  tell  you.  I  can't  stand  here  gablin'  all 
day." 

"But,  my  good  friend,  there  is  some  error — these 
things  were  not  sent  to  me,"  persisted  Rosalie,  looking 
longingly  at  the  hard,  sweet-smelling  butter,  with  the 
dew  rising  on  it. 

With  no  more  ado,  "Billy"  marched  up  to  the 
corner  cupboard,  seized  a  knife,  passed  it  under  the 
print  of  butter,  and  deftly  turned  the  print  out  of  the 


CAHTX-KEEPING.  297 

pan  into  a  plate ;  next,  he  took  up  the  pail  and  poured 
the  milk  into  a  pitcher;  finally,  he  went  back  and 
seized  his  basket,  and  seeing  nothing,  to  receive  the 
vegetables,  just  turned  it  upside  down  and  shook  them 
out  upon  the  floor — and  potatoes,  cucumbers,  onions, 
tomatoes,  &c.,  rolled  in  every  direction.  And  "  Billy" 
caught  up  his  empty  pan  and  pail  and  pitched  them 
into  the  basket,  and  hitched  the  latter,  with  a  jerk, 
upon  his  arm,  and  marched  out  of  the  door,  exclaim- 
ing— 

"Now,  for  the  futur',  mind,  you  must  come  arter 
'em  every  day,  yourself — if  they're  worth  havin'  they're 
worth  comin'  for,  an'  I've  got  'nought  to  do  for  her, 
'out  trudgin'  over  here  every  day  for  you.  An'  I 
told  her  I  wan't  a-goin'  to  do  it,  nuther,"  &c., 
&c.,  &c. 

For  long  after  Billy  was  out  of  sight  in  the  woods, 
Rosalie  heard  the  retreating  sound  of  his  grumbling. 
Full  of  wonder,  she  set  about  to  collect  the  fugitive 
potatoes,  tomatoes,  &c.  She  put  them  under  the  lower 
shelf  of  her  cupboard,  and  drew  the  short  white  cur- 
tain before  them  ;  then  she  set  the  pitcher  of  rich  milk 
and  the  plate  of  fresh  butter  upon  the  table,  much 
pleased  with  the  unexpected  luxury,  but  more  pleased 
to  anticipate  the  surprise  and  pleasure  of  Mark.  And 
all  being  ready,  she  took  her  sewing,  and  sat  in  the 
door  to  watch  for  his  coming.  She  heard  his  footstep 
before  she  saw  his  form ;  and  she  closed  the  door  and 
ran  up  the  woodland  path  to  meet  him.  And  soon 
their  merry  voices  and  silvery  laughter  echoed  through 
the  forest,  as  they  approached  the  cabin.  Rosalie  had 
said  nothing  of  her  new  luxuries-;  and  when  they 
entered  the  cabin,  and  he  threw  a  glance  around,  and 


298  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

dropped  his  eyes  upon  the  table,  first  of  all  he  caught 
and  kissed  Rose  again  for  her  affectionate  care,  and 
then,  by  his  exclamations  and  questions,  exhibited  all 
the  surprise  and  satisfaction  that  the  most  exacting 
little  Eose  could  have  desired.  While  they  supped, 
Eosalie  explained  the  mystery  of  the  plums  and  rasp- 
berries, and,  after  relating  the  visit  of  Billy,  requested 
an  explanation  of  the  other  mystery,  of  the  butter, 
milk,  and  vegetables,  and  expressed  her  fears  that, 
after  all,  she  had  no  right  to  them — that  they  were 
intended  for  some  one  else.  Mark  reassured  her  by 
giving  his  opinion  that  they  were  intended  for  her- 
self, and  no  other ;  and  that  she  would  find  out,  the 
next  day,  probably,  the  kind  neighbour  who  had  sent 
them. 

After  supper  was  over  and  cleared  away,  and  the 
young  pair  had  rested  awhile,  and  the  moon  had  risen, 
they  crossed  the  rill  and  went  up  the  hill  to  enjoy  the 
fine  air  and  the  extended  view. 

And  thus  closed  their  first  day  at  the  log  cabin. 

And  the  next  morning  Rosalie  found  out  her  kind 
neighbours. 


DOMESTIC  ARRANGEMENTS.  299 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

DOMESTIC    ARRANGEMENTS. 

''  They  grow  in  the  world's  approving  eyes, 
In  friendship's  smile  and  home's  caress : 
Collecting  all  the  heart's  sweet  ties 
Into  one  knot  of  happiness." — Moore. 

THE  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  while  sitting 
alone  in  her  cabin,  engaged,  as  usual,  in  needlework, 
Rosalie  received  a  call  from  her  kind  neighbour,  Mrs. 
Attridge,  whom  she  found  to  be  the  wife  of  the  worthy 
proprietor  of  the  neighbouring  lead-smelting  furnace. 
"  Fat,  fair,  and  forty,"  with  a  fund  of  good  nature  and 
good  humour,  in  easy  circumstances,  and  with  much 
experience  in  Western  life,  this  lady  proved  an  in- 
valuable acquisition  to  Rosalie  in  the  era  of  her  cabin 
trials.  Her  frank,  gay,  and  homely  manner  invited 
confidence.  She  pressed  upon  her  young  neighbour 
the  freedom  of  her  garden  and  her  dairy,  for  as  long 
as  the  latter  chose  to  avail  herself  of  the  privilege,  or 
until  she  should  have  cows  and  a  garden  of  her  own 
— telling  her  that  it  was  the  custom  of  the  settlers  to 
accommodate  each  other  in  that  way,  and  that  she 
herself,  in  the  first  year  of  her  residence  here,  had 
been  indebted  to  a  neighbour  for  her  milk  and  vege- 
tables. Talking  of  vegetables,  led  to  the  subject  of 
"Billy,"  whom  Mrs.  Attridge  laughingly  averred  to 
be  a  vegetable  himself,  for  verdancy.  Billy,  she  said, 
was  a  native  of  Holland,  brought  over  to  America  in 
his  infancy,  and  left  a  destitute  orphan,  whom  her 


300  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RTVER. 

mother  had  taken  and  brought  up,  but  whose  peculi- 
arity of  disposition  and  simplicity  of  character  was 
such  as  fitted  him  only  for  house-work.  She  said  that, 
on  the  death  of  his  first  mistress,  Billy  had  attached 
himself  to  the  fortunes  of  herself  and  husband,  and 
had  accompanied  them  to  the  West,  and  had  been 
their  only  house  servant  ever  since — cooking,  cleaning, 
washing,  and  ironing,  as  well  as  any  woman  could. 

Rosalie  was  amused,  cheered,  and  comforted,  by 
Mrs.  Attridge's  lively  conversation  and  kind  sympathy 
— yet  during  the  lady's  visit,  a  case  that  had  troubled 
the  youthful  wife  for  several  days  still  weighed  upon 
her  spirits  and  cast  its  gloom  over  her  countenance, 
and  refused  to  be  shaken  off. 

Mrs.  Attridge,  with  a  housekeeper's  sympathy  and 
a  woman's  tact,  divined  the  cause,  and  with  rude  but 
kind  promptitude  drew  the  trouble  out  to  light,  by 
suddenly  asking — 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do  about  your  washing,  my 
dear  ? — for  it  is  all  nonsense  to  suppose  that  you  could 
wash." 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  said  Rosalie ;  "  and  that  is  just  what 
disturbs  me  so.  I  can  manage  to  keep  our  cabin  tidy, 
and  dress  our  little  meals ;  but  I  cannot  wash — indeed, 
I  cannot.  I  attempted  to  do  so,  but,  after  having  ex- 
hausted all  my  strength,  and  made  myself  almost  ill, 
I  failed.  And  when  I  know  that  every  pioneer  house- 
keeper needs  to  be  competent  to  the  performance  of 
all  her  domestic  duties,  I  feel  thoroughly  ashamed  of 
my  helplessness  in  some  respects.  And  when  I  see 
my  husband  so  patient  and  cheerful  under  domestic 
annoyances  that  no  day-labourer  with  an  efficient 


DOMESTIC   ARRANGEMENTS.  301 

helpmate  ever  has  to  suffer — oh !  you  know  I  must 
feel  so  cruelly  disappointed  in  myself." 

Mrs.  Attridge  made  no  comment,  but  looked  upon 
her  young  neighbour  with  a  considerate,  fond,  pro- 
tective expression  on  her  honest  countenance.  And 
after  a  few  minutes,  Eosalie  spoke  again — 

"  Can  you  advise  me  what  to  do,  Mrs.  Attridge  ? 
for  I  have  resolved  that,  in  our  present  circumstances, 
my  husband  shall  be  put  to  no  expense  for  these 
matters." 

"  Oh !  pshaw  !  you  can  never  do  it ;  and  some  other 
plan  must  be  thought  of,"  said  the  visitor,  reflec- 
tively. 

"  Yes,  it  is  real  incapacity  on  my  part — a  want  of 
the  requisite  physical  strength.  I  am  not  constitu- 
tionally weak  ;  but  the  muscles  of  my  arms  and  chest 
have  never  been  trained  to  great  or  continued  ex- 
ertion, and  strengthened  by  that  process — more  is  the 
pity !  Look  at  my  wrists." 

And  Eosalie,  smilingly,  tearfully,  held  out  two 
delicate,  fair,  tapering  arms.  And  Mrs.  Attridge  took 
and  held  them  affectionately,  while  she  said — 

"  I  know — I  know  it  would  be  useless  and  cruel  to 
expect  hard  work  of  you ;  and  yet  the  expense 
oughtn't  to  come  on  him,  neither,  just  now.  I  have 
been  thinking,  since  I  sat  here,  of  an  Irish  family  of 
the  name  of  Malony,  who  live  in  a  shanty  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  this,  on  my  road  home.  The 
man  works  at  our  furnace,  and  the  woman  washes  for 
bachelors.  Now,  although  they  are  thriving,  she  and 
her  family  are  always  ragged,  because  she  is  as  igno- 
rant as  a  savage  of  the  use  of  a  needle ;  and,  besides, 
she  says  she  hasn't  time  to  sew.  Now,"  said  Mrs. 


302     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

Attridge,  half  laughingly,  as  she  arose  to  depart, 
"suppose  you  were  to  barter  work  with  Judy  Ma- 
lony,  and  pay  her  for  washing  by  making  up  clothing 
for  her  children?  At  any  rate,  I  will  call  and 
see  Judy  on  my  way  home,  and  send  her  over  to 
you." 

Eosalie  cordially  thanked  her  kind  friend,  and 
held  her  hand,  and  felt  unwilling  to  allow  her  to 
depart. 

"  I  shall  send  Billy  over  with  more  fresh  milk  this 
evening.  And  you  must  not  mind  his  grumbling — 
he  grumbles  at  me  and  Mr.  Attridge  all  day  long 
sometimes,  and  won't  allow  us  to  touch  a  thing  in 
the  garden  till  he  thinks  proper,  without  a  deal  of 
grumbling." 

Mrs.  Attridge,  after  promising  Rosalie  to  walk 
over  and  see  her  often,  and  spend  whole  days 
whenever  it  was  possible,  took  leave,  and  de- 
parted. 

That  evening  Mark  Sutherland  returned  home 
sooner  than  usual.  His  countenance  was  cheerful 
with  good  news,  and  he  threw  into  Eosalie's  lap  a 
packet  of  letters  and  papers  from  home — the  first  that 
had  been  received  since  their  separation  from  their 
friends. 

There  was  a  letter  from  Colonel  Ashley,  full 
of  kind  wishes,  and  something  more  substantial 
in  the  shape  of  a  cheque  on  the  St.  Louis  bank, 
for  his  niece.  He  informed  them  that  he  was  again 
alone — that  his  son,  St.  Gerald,  having  lost  his 
election,  had,  under  the  disappointment,  yielded  to 
the  wishes  of  his  Avifo,  and  taken  her  to  her  Southern 
home ;  and  that  he  expected  his  own  eldest  daughter, 


DOMESTIC  AK11AXGEMENTS,  303 

now  a  widow,  to  return  and  take  the  direction  of  his 
household. 

There  was  also  a  letter  from  Valeria  to  Rose,  and 
one  from  Lincoln  to  Mark. 

By  these  letters  they  learned  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Lauderdale  had  joined  the  Ashleys  at  Cashmere,  and 
remained  the  guests  of  Clement  Sutherland  for  a 
month  before  proceeding  to  their  own  home  in 
Louisiana. 

Valeria  wrote  that  the  Valley  of  the  Pearl  was  still 
the  loveliest  vale  on  earth,  and  Cashmere  the  brightest 
gem  on  its  bosom ;  but  that  the  envied  master  of  this 
Eden  was  more  sullen,  morose,  and  unhappy  than 
ever — that  it  was  rumoured  his  affairs  were  not  as 
prosperous  as  before — that  he  had  engaged  in  ruinous 
speculations — that  Mr.  St.  Gerald  Ashley,  since  losing 
his  election,  had  lost  his  good  temper  and  amiability, 
and  sought  more  consolation  from  his  "generous  wine" 
than  from  his  unloving  wife — that  all  these  circum- 
stances weighed  heavily  upon  the  health  and  spirits 
of  the  beautiful  India,  who  had  changed  sadly  within 
the  last  few  months.  The  kind-hearted  but  volatile 
Valeria  touched  lightly  and  reluctantly  upon  these 
unhappy  circumstances,  and  seemed  always  divided 
between  her  spirit  of  communicativeness  and  her 
scruples  of  conscience. 

Mark  Sutherland  and  Eosalie  read  with  regret,  and 
turned  from  the  sad  contemplation  with  a  sense  of 
relief  to  rest  gladly  upon  the  image  of  Valeria^and 
Lincoln  Landerdale,  now  happily  settled  upon  their 
beautiful  estate  of  Fairplains,  in  Louisiana.  Withal 
this  was  a  happy  evening  to  the  young  cottagers — 
a  festival  of  gladness,  such  as  can  be  fully  enjoyed 


304  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

only  by  exiles,  feasting  upon  long-desired  letters  from 
home. 

The  next  day  Eosalie  was  somewhat  surprised  to 
receive  a  visit  from  Judy,  and  very  well  satisfied  to 
effect  with  her  an  arrangement  by  which  Judy  was  to 
do  all  the  washing  and  ironing  for  Rosalie,  who  was 
to  repay  her  by  making  up  frocks  and  aprons  for  her 
children.  And  so,  before  the  end  of  the  first  week  of 
housekeeping,  Rosalie's  domestic  circumstances  were 
providentially  arranged  in  all  the  order  and  comfort 
consistent  with  log-cabin  life. 

It  would  seem  a  lonely  life  she  led  now,  yet  Rosalie 
found  it  not  so.  The  solitude  was  peopled  with  her 
multitudinous  rich  affections,  high  purposes,  and 
bright  hopes  of  the  future.  Through  the  day  she 
sang  at  her  active  household  work,  or  fell  into  pleasing 
reverie  over  her  needle.  In  the  afternoon,  when  Mark 
returned,  they  partook  of  an  early  supper,  rested,  and 
then  took  a  pleasant  woodland  walk,  or  occupied  the 
evening  hours  with  a  book. 

On  the  first  Sabbath  Mrs.  Attridge  called  in  her  car- 
ryall to  offer  the  young  couple  the  two  vacant  seats  to 
church;  a  favour  which,  after  some  little  hesitation 
and  reflection,  they  frankly  and  gratefully  accepted. 
And,  afterwards,  Mark  Sutherland  was  much  pleased 
when  it  fell  in  the  way  of  his  profession  to  do  Mr. 
Attridge  a  gratuitous  service — a  favour  which  it  was 
rather  difficult  to  make  honest  Paul  Attridge  accept, 
who  answered  to  all  Mr.  Sutherland's  grateful  acknow- 
ledgments and  expostulations, 

"  That  neighbours  should  be  neighbours,  but  that 
professional  men  should  be  paid  for  their  services." 

As  passed  the  week,  so  passed  the  autumn,  bringing 


DOMESTIC   ARRANGEMENTS.  305 

little  change  in  the  circumstances  of  our  young  friends. 
Mr.  Sutherland  gained  admittance  to  the  bar ;  but  as 
yet  his  professional  duties  were  confined  exclusively 
to  office  business,  the  drawing  up  of  deeds,  bonds,  mort- 
gages, &c.  And  this  was  not  profitable.  Indeed,  many 
of  his  best-meaning  neighbours  strongly  advised  him 
to  take  up  government  land,  and  turn  his  attention  to 
agriculture.  But  this  Rosalie  opposed  with  all  her 
might,  encouraging  him  to  be  constant  to  his  profes- 
sion as  he  was  to  his  wife — "  for  better  for  worse,  for 
richer  for  poorer."  She  alone,  suppressing  all  com- 
plaint and  concealing  all  her  personal  privations,  con- 
tinued to  cheer  and  strengthen  the  struggler.  She 
alone  had  an  invincible  faith  in  his  future — his  future 
of  greatness  and  wide  usefulness. 

Autumn  waned,  and  the  severe  winter  of  those  lati- 
tudes approached.  Early  in  December  a  heavy  fall  of 
snow  covered  the  ground  two  or  three  feet  in  depth, 
rendering  the  road  almost  impassable  between  Wolf's 
Grove  and  Shelton,  and  nearly  blockading  our  friends 
in  their  log  cabin.  It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  Mark  Sutherland  performed  the  three  miles'  jour- 
ney from  his  home  to  his  office,  and  Rosalie  was  a  close 
prisoner  in  her  house. 

The  snow  lay  on  the  ground  several  weeks,  during 
which  time  the  hardships  and  privations  of  the  young 
couple  were  so  numerous  and  so  great  as  to  determine 
them  to  seize  the  earliest  opportunity  of  removing  into 
town;  and  Mark  accordingly  sought  a  house  in  Shelton. 
And  having  found  one  vacated  by  a  family  about  to 
emigrate  to  Arkansas,  he  rented  it  at  once,  and  availed 
himself  of  the  first  favourable  change  in  the  weather 
to  remove  to  town  and  take  possession  of  it. 
19 


306  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

Their  removal  took  place  the  first  of  January.  A 
return  to  the  society  of  her  fellow-beings  produced  a 
very  happy  change  in  the  spirit  of  Rosalie.  Patient, 
cheerful,  and  hopeful,  she  had  been  before ;  but  now, 
the  sight  of  people  about  her — all  active,  lively,  ener- 
getic, each  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  some  calling, 
whose  object  was  at  once  the  benefit  of  his  individual 
self  and  the  community — this  gave  strong  impetus  to 
her  enterprise,  and  suggested  many  plans  of  usefulness 
and  improvement. 

Considerable  and  thriving  as  was  the  town  of  Shel- 
ton,  no  newspaper  had  as  yet  been  published  there. 
Rosalie  spoke  of  this  to  her  husband.  Could  he  not 
create  a  sphere  of  influence  and  usefulness  in  that 
way  ?  Could  he  not  edit  an  independent  newspaper  ? 

It  took  money  to  set  up  a  journal,  and  he  had  no 
money,  Mark  answered. 

Could  he  not  interest  the  small  capitalists  and  busi- 
ness men  of  the  village  in  this  enterprise  ? 

Mark  replied,  that  to  edit  a  paper  required  time, 
and  that  his  office  business,  though  not  enough  to 
support  them  comfortably,  was  quite  enough  to  spoil 
his  leisure  for  any  other  employment. 

In  fact,  our  friend  was  in  a  state  of  depression  and 
discouragement,  from  which  it  required  all  the  faith 
and  hope  that  was  in  Rosalie  to  arouse  him.  She  said 
that  she  would  help  him,  both  in  the  law  office  and 
with  the  paper.  She  begged  him  to  try  her — her 
"  good  will  was  to  it,"  and  she  had  more  leisure  than 
she  could  profitably  employ  at  present. 

In  brief,  Rosalie  effected  her  purpose.  Mark  Suth- 
erland prevailed  upon  the  principal  men  of  the  village 
to  unite  in  establishing  a  free  paper ;  and,  as  a  natural 


CASHMERE.  307 

result,  they  appointed  Mr.  Sutherland  the  editor. 
Eosalie  rendered  efficient  though  unseen  aid.  Nor 
did  the  enterprising  spirit  of  the  girl  pause  here. 
There  was  no  good  school  in  Shelton.  The  want  of 
one  was  greatly  felt.  Eosalie  proposed  to  Mark  that 
she  should  open  one.  Mark  at  first  opposed  the 
plan — it  would  be  too  much  for  her.  But  Rosalie 
found  her  greatest  health  of  mind  and  body  in  her 
greatest  activity  and  usefulness.  The  girl's  school 
was  established  by  her  single  enterprise.  And  it 
grew  and  prospered. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

CASHMERE. 

"You  were  not  meant  to  straggle  from  your  youth, 
To  skulk,  and  creep,  and  in  mean  pathways  range; 
Act  with  stern  truth,  largo  faith,  and  loving  will — 
Up  and  be  doing." — Lowell. 

FOUR  years  had  passed  away  since  Mark  Sutherland 
and  Rosalie  had  taken  up  their  residence  in  the  village 
of  Shelton.  In  this  space  of  time  many  changes  had 
passed  over  the  village  community  and  the  individuals 
that  composed  it.  The  Territory  had  been  erected 
into  a  state — new  towns  were  incorporated — new 
cities  founded — old  ones  throve.  Shelton  itself  had 
more  than  doubled  in  population  and  importance. 
Where  there  had  been  but  three  or  four  stores,  there 
were  now  a  dozen;  where  there  had  been  but  two 


308  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

churches,  there  were  now  five.  A  handsome  court- 
house stood  on  the  site  of  the  old  log  tenement, 
whence  the  law,  if  not  justice,  had  once  issued  its 
decisions;  an  excellent  market-place,  well  attended, 
added  much  to  the  comfort  of  the  citizens;  a  lyceum — 
an  incipient  library  and  museum,  perhaps — lent  its 
attractions  to  the  town;  an  elegant  and  capacious 
hotel  replaced  the  rude,  clap-boarded  tavern  of 
Colonel  Garner.  The  country  around  the  village  had 
become  thickly  settled,  and  many,  many  improve- 
ments, which  it  were  tedious  to  enumerate,  had  added 
to  the  importance  of  the  place. 

Our  friends,  Mark  and  Eosalie,  had  grown  up  with 
the  village.  Their  paper,  "The  True  Freeman"  and 
their  school,  had  both  greatly  prospered.  But  no 
one  in  the  world,  except  Mark  himself,  knew  how 
much  of  this  prosperity  was  owing  to  the  cheerful 
hope,  the  firm  faith,  the  warm  zeal,  the  untiring  per- 
severance of  Rosalie.  And  at  times  he  wondered  at 
the  power  of  that  pale,  fragile  creature — for  she  was 
still  very  delicate  and  frail. 

His  professional  business  had  increased  very  rapidly. 
He  could  not  have  specified  any  day,  or  any  suit, 
from  which  his  success  had  taken  its  impetus — all 
had  been  so  gradual,  so  purely  the  result  of  applica- 
tion and  perseverance,  rather  than  of  accident  or  for- 
tune. He  felt  that  here  too  there  was  an  outward 
influence,  an  external  power,  to  which  he  owed  much, 
very  much,  of  his  persistent  energy — a  power  living 
by  his  side,  that  continually  threw  itself  with  all  its 
ardour  and  force  into  his  purposes — into  his  soul— 
warming  and  strengthening  him  for  effort,  for  endur- 
ance. 


CASHMERE.  309 

His  success  was  wonderful.  He  was  already  the 
most  popular,  the  busiest,  as  he  was  also  considered 
the  most  able  lawyer  in  the  West.  Though  but 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  he  was  no  longer  only  by 
courtesy  "Judge" — he  was  the  presiding  Judge  of  the 
court,  by  the  appointment  of  the  Executive.  He  had 
been  elected  to  the  State  Senate;  he  had  been  named 
as  a  candidate  for  Governor.  And  he  felt  and  knew 
that  from  the  quiet,  fair,  and  fragile  being  at  his  side, 
he  drew  continual  strength,  and  light,  and  warmth; 
that,  in  addition  to  his  own,  he  absorbed  her  life — her 
life,  that  she  gave  freely  to  her  love.  Her  form  was 
frailer,  her  face  wanner,  but  more  beautiful,  more 
impressive  than  ever — for  her  eyes  were  brilliant  and 
eloquent  with  enthusiasm,  and  her  lips,  "touched  with 
fire." 

"Not  only  for  you — not  only  for  you — but  for 
humanity,  dearest  Mark,  I  wish  you  to  attain  power 

and  place.  You  will  attain  them,  and 1  shall  not, 

die  till  thenf"  she  would  mentally  add. 

At  the  end  of  the  fourth  year  of  their  residence  in 
Shelton,  Rosalie  having  attained  her  majority,  it  be- 
came necessary  for  Mark  Sutherland  to  go  to  Missis- 
sippi— to  Cashmere — on  the  part  of  his  wife,  for  the 
purpose  of  making  a  final  settlement  with  her  guardian, 
Clement  Sutherland,  and  taking  possession  of  her 
splendid  fortune.  He  wished  very  much  that  Eosalie 
should  accompany  him  to  the  South;  but  as  the 
necessity  of  her  personal  attendance  might  be  dis- 
pensed with,  and  as  at  home  the  interests  of  their 
household,  their  school,  and  the  paper,  seemed  to 
require  the  presence  of  one  of  them,  it  was  decided 


310  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

that  Mark  Sutherland  should  depart  on  his  journey 
alone. 

It  was  on  a  cool,  pleasant  day  of  September  that 
Judge  Sutherland  set  out  on  his  journey  for  the  South. 
Kosalie  had  accompanied  him  on  board  the  boat,  to 
remain  as  long  as  she  might  before  the  steamer  should 
leave  the  wharf.  It  was  their  first  separation  since 
their  marriage,  and  upon  that  account  alone,  perhaps, 
they  felt  it  the  more  sensibly ;  and  as  the  boat  was 
getting  up  her  steam,  Mark  Sutherland  blessed  and 
dismissed  his  wife.  He  felt — how  wan,  how  fragile, 
how  spritual  was  her  appearance;  he  almost  felt  that 
at  any  moment  she  might  be  wafted  from  his  posses- 
sion, from  his  sight,  for  ever.  The  idea  transfixed 
him  with  a  sharp  agony,  but  only  for  a  little  while. 

The  boat  was  on  her  way,  and  his  thoughts  turned 
from  her  he  was  leaving  behind  to  those  he  was 
hastening  to  meet.  This  way,  too,  was  full  of  anxiety. 
Nearly  a  year  had  passed  since  he  had  heard  from 
any  of  his  friends  in  Mississippi.  Although  he  had 
written  to  his  mother  regularly,  he  had  received  no 
letter  from  her  for  several  months,  and  the  vague 
reports  from  Silentshades  were  not  satisfactory.  Six 
weeks  had  intervened  since  his  wife  had  attained  her 
majority,  and  they  had  advised  Mr.  Clement  Sutherland 
to  be  prepared  to  give  an  account  of  and  yield  up  the 
property  left  in  his  care  for  so  many  years ;  yet  no 
answer  had  been  vouchsafed.  Rumour  also  spoke  of 
Clement  Sutherland  as  a  suspected,  if  not  a  ruined 
man.  Full  of  anxiety  as  to  the  truth  of  these  injurious 
rumours  and  the  causes  of  this  ominous  silence,  Mark 
Sutherland  paced  the  deck  of  the  steamer  as  it  pur- 
sued its  course  down  the  river. 


CASHMERE.  311 

It  was  on  the  afternoon  of  the  sixth  day  of  his 
voyage,  that  the  boat  stopped  at  the  wharf  of  the 

small  hamlet  of  C ,  and  Mark  Sutherland  debarked, 

and  hired  a  horse  to  take  him  to  Cashmere.  He  left 
his  portmanteau  in  the  care  of  the  landlord  of  the 
little  tavern,  and  set  out  on  his  ride.  Leaving  the 
low  banks  of  the  river  to  the  westward  behind  him, 
he  rode  on  towards  the  interior  of  the  State,  ascended 
a  line  of  hills,  and  descending  the  other  side,  entered 
once  more  the  "Beautiful  Valley  of  the  Pearl."  Here 
then  he  stood  once  more  upon  the  scene  of  his  youth's 
tragedy!  With  the  profoundest  interest  he  looked 
around.  But  all  was,  or  seemed  to  be,  changed  I  Had 
it  really  ever  been  so  beautiful  as  it  had  once  seemed 
to  him,  and  had  age  and  decay  passed  over  it?  Or 
had  its  beauty  been  only  the  glamour  thrown  over 
the  scene  ':y  youth,  and  love,  and  hope?  It  might 
have  been  his  changed  and  purified  vision;  for  much 
of  imagination,  e  Uhusiasm,  ideality,  had  passed  away 
with  the  morning  of  Mark's  life,  even  as  the  silvery 
mist  of  sunrise  passes  away  before  the  full,  broad 
day. 

It  might  have  been  the  waning  season,  for  it  was 
now  late  in  a  dry  and  burning  September;  but  the 
beauty  and  glory  had  departed  from  the  vale.  The 
luxuriant  green  freshness  of  summer  had  departed, 
and  the  brilliant  and  gorgeous  magnificence  of  autumn 
had  not  come.  All  the  vegetation — forests,  and  shrub- 
beries, and  grasses — was  dry  and  parched  in  the  sun, 
and  the  very  earth  beneath  seemed  calcined  by  the  dry 
and  burning  heat.  The  springs,  ponds,  and  water- 
courses were  low,  muddy,  and  nearly  exhausted ;  and 
over  all  the  sun-burned,  feverish  earth,  hung  a  still, 


312  INDIA.      THE   PEARL    OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

coppery,  parching  sky.  You  scarcely  could  tell  which 
was  driest  and  hottest — the  burning  sky  above,  or  the 
burning  earth  below. 

It  was,  as  an  old  field  negro  said,  "  like  an  oven-lid 
on  an  oven."  The  Pearl  itself  was  now  a  narrow, 
shrunken,  sluggish  stream,  creeping  between  high 
banks  of  red  and  pulverized  earth,  that  was  always 
sliding  in  and  discolouring  and  thickening  the  stream 
of  water. 

Mark  Sutherland  rode  down  to  the  edge  of  the  river, 
to  the  ferry  house — once  a  neat  and  well-kept  little 
building,  now  fallen  into  neglect  and  dilapidation. 

The  white-haired  negro  ferryman  was  a  servant  of 
Clement  Sutherland's,  and  an  old  acquaintance  of 
Mark's.  He  met  his  "yonng  master"  with  a  sort  of 
subdued  surprise  and  pleasure,  and  to  his  mjestion  as 
to  whether  they  were  all  well  at  Cashmere,  answered 
with  a  sigh  that  they  were  just  as  well  as  usual. 

Mark  asked  no  other  questions,  and  in  perfect 
silence  the  old  man  put  his  passenger  over  to  the 
Cashmere  side. 

Here  had  once  been  a  well-kept  wharf,  but  now  it 
was  much  worn  and  out  of  repair.  Under  the  shade 
of  a  group  of  elms  on  the  right  had  once  stood  a 
pretty  boat-house,  in  the  form  of  a  Chinese  Pagoda ; 
it  was  now  a  heap  of  ruins.  There  had  once  been  a 
little  fleet  of  boats  moored  under  its  shadow;  there 
remained  now  one  large,  dirty  skiff,  half-full  of  mud 
and  water,  and  floating  idly  on  the  turbid  stream ; 
and  another  smaller  skiff,  high  and  dry  upon  the  beach, 
with  its  timbers  shrunken  apart,  bleaching  in  the 
sun. 

A?  Mark  rode  on  through  the  grounds  towards  the 


CASHMERE.  313 

house,  he  noticed  further  signs  of  approaching  desola- 
tion. Fences  were  broken  or  down,  and  out-build- 
ings were  dilapidated  or  unroofed.  Passing  through 
the  orchard,  he  saw  the  trees  untrimmed ;  some  broken 
down  with  their  loads  of  over-ripe  fruit,  some  blighted 
— a  prey  to  vermin — and  some  dying  or  dead,  and 
wrapped  in  shrouds  of  cobwebs.  Entering  the  vine- 
yard, he  observed  the  trellis-work  broken  and  falling, 
the  vines  trailing  on  the  ground,  and  the  ripe  and 
luscious  fruit  rotting  on  its  stems.  He  paused  near 
the  garden  on  his  right,  and  a  glance  showed  him  that 
favourite  resort  of  his  youth,  once  the  perfection  of 
order  and  beauty,  now  a  wilderness  where  thousands 
of  the  most  lovely  flowers  and  most  noxious  weeds 
dried  and  decayed  together  under  the  burning  sun 
of  September.  There  the  deadly  nightshade  grew 
ranker  than  the  rose  which  it  crowded  out  of  life ;  and 
the  poison  oak,  whose  contact  is  death,  twined  in  and 
out  among  the  tendrils  of  the  honeysuckle  and  the 
clematis. 

Everywhere  I  everywhere !  all  things  betokened  in- 
difference and  neglect,  and  prophesied  of  ruin  and 
despair.  While  occupied  with  wondering  what  could 
have  been  the  cause  of  this  great  and  grievous  change, 
Murk  Sutherland  perceived  the  approach  of  an  old 
negro,  who  touched  his  hat  in  respectful  salutation, 
and  followed  him  to  the  foot  of  the  Eose  Terrace, 
where  he  stood  in  readiness  to  take  the  horse.  Mark 
dismounted,  and  threw  the  reins  to  the  groom,  whom 
he  now  recognized  for  an  old  acquaintance.  He  held 
out  his  hand  and  .spoke  kindly  to  the  old  man,  in- 
quiring after  his  wife  and  children. 

"  All  well  as  can  be  'spected — Marse  Mark !     Ah, 


314  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

chile !  things  is  changed  since  you  was  here — 'deed 
dey  is,  honey.  Tree  year  han'  runnin'  ole  marse  crap 
fail — 'fore  my  blessed  Hebbenly  Master,  dey  did, 
honey — tree  year  han'  runnin'.  'Deed,  den,  when  we- 
dem  had  fuss-rate  crap,  come  de  tornado,  an'  ruin 
eberyting ;  and  nothin'  eber  been  fix  up  right  since. 
An'  'pears  like  nothin'  eber  gone  right  since.  Den 
ole  marse  he  went  to  speculating  and  loss  heap  o' 
money — leastways  so  dey  do  say.  Den  arter  a  bit 
come  de  sheriff,  executionizin'  down  on  top  o'  we-dem 
poor  coloured  people,  as  hadden  nothin'  'tal  to  do  wid 
it — an'  carries  away  all  de  best  of  us — all  my  poor 
dear  gals  an'  boys,  as  I  hoped  to  spen'  my  ole  days 
wid,  an'  good  many  oders.  And  since  dat,  seem  like 
we-dem  aint  had  no  heart  to  tend  to  nothin' — a-pinin* 
arter  our  poor  children — it  kinder  takes  all  the 
strength  out'n  us." 

"With  a  deep  sigh,  Mark  Sutherland  turned  from 
the  poor  old  man,  and  went  up  the  stone  steps  that 
led  to  the  Eose  Terrace,  that  was  also  a  neglected 
wilderness — but  a  wilderness  of  roses,  and  therefore 
still  beautiful.  Unannounced,  he  went  up  into  the 
piazza ;  and  before  he  could  retreat,  in  an  instant  he 
saw  and  heard  the  following: — A  man — or  perhaps  I 
should  be  expected  to  say,  a  gentleman — of  very 
bloated  and  slothful  appearance,  was  lazily  reclining 
upon  a  bench,  with  his  feet  on  the  top  of  the  balus- 
trades, and  with  his  right  arm  around  the  waist  of  a 
pretty,  frightened  quadroon  girl,  who  seemed  from  the 
fan  she  still  held,  to  have  been  engaged  in  keeping 
the  flies  off  from  him  while  he  slept.  She  was  now 
gently  and  fearfully  struggling  to  free  herself  from 
his  clasp,  and  saying,  in  hushed,  frightened  tones — 


CASHMERE.  315 

"O!  if  you  please,  sir,  don't!  Consider.  Indeed 
it  isn't  right.  What  would  my  dear  mistress  say?" 

"  Mistress  !  my  pretty  Oriole  !  I  wish  she  may  say 
anything !  Let  her  !  You  shall  kiss  me  1" 

"  O  master !  O  sir !" 

At  this  moment  Mark  Sutherland  had  entered,  ad- 
vanced, and  bowed  very  coldly,  saying — "Mr.  St. 
Gerald  Ashley,  if  I  remember  right  ?" 

The  ruin  of  St.  Gerald  Ashley  arose  to  his  feet,  and 
answered,  with  something  of  his  former  ease  and  self- 
possession, 

"Yes,  sir.  Mr.  Sutherland,  you  are  welcome  to 
Cashmere  again.  Walk  in ;  or  would  you  prefer  to 
sit  down  in  the  cool  air  here  for  a  few  moments  ?  The 
house  is  very  warm.  Girl,  go  an<J  let  you  mistress 
know  that  Mr.  Sutherland  has  arrived." 

He  added  this  command  in  a  tone  of  authority,  in 
strong  contrast  of  his  tone  of  wooing  of  a  moment 
since. 

Oriole,  with  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  her  face 
dyed  with  blushes,  went  gladly  to  obey. 

Mr.  Ashley  then  conducted  his  guest  into  the  house. 

In  a  few  minutes  Oriole  returned.  Her  mistress 
was  too  indisposed  to  appear ;  Mr.  Sutherland  would 
please  to  excuse  her. 

Within  half  an  hour  a  servant,  summoned  for  the 
purpose,  showed  Mr.  Sutherland  to  his  room,  and  sup- 
plied him  with  articles  necessary  to  the  bath  and 
toilet. 

After  refreshing  himself,  Mark  rang  the  bell,  and 
requested  to  know  if  Mr.  Clement  Sutherland  was  in 
the  house,  and  when  he  could  see  him. 

He  was  answered,  that  Mr.  Sutherland  had  ridden 


316  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   <3F    PEARL   RIVER. 

to  the  county  town,  and  would  not  return  before  the 
next  morning. 

And  soon  after  he  was  summoned  to  the  supper- 
table.  No  one  was  present  at  the  board  beside  Mr. 
Ashley  and  Mark  Sutherland,  except  Oriole,  who 
stood  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  poured  out  the 
coffee.  With  profound  and  melancholy  interest  Mark 
Sutherland  watched  this  girl.  She  had  been  a  pretty 
child,  and  now  had  ripened  into  a  most  beautiful 
woman.  A  slight  and  elegant  form,  well  rounded  and 
tapering,  pliant  and  graceful  as  a  willow,  oval  face 
of  the  purest  olive,  warming  into  pomegranate  bloom 
upon  the  cheeks  and  lips;  large,  dark-grey,  passionate 
eyes,  fringed  with  long  black  lashes,  "sweet  low 
brow,"  shaded  with  soft,  black,  silky  ringlets,  a  coun- 
tenance full  of  slumbrous  passion  and  emotion,  with 
little  strength  of  spirit  or  of  intellect.  These  formed 
the  complete  and  matchless  beauty  of  the  maiden,  and 
Mark  Sutherland  noticed — he  could  not  help  but  no- 
tice, his  interest  was  so  painfully  excited — the  glances 
with  which  Mr.  Ashley  followed  the  gracefully- moving 
form  of  Oriole. 

Mark  Sutherland  wished  to  inquire  after  the  health 
and  welfare  of  his  mother,  with  whom  he  had  made 
several  attempts  to  open  a  correspondence,  but  from 
whom  he  had  not  heard  for  nearly  four  years ;  but  an 
undefinable  reluctance  withheld  him  from  naming  the 
subject  to  the  degenerate  man  before  him.  Mr.  Ash- 
ley ordered  more  wine,  and  pressed  it  upon  his  com- 
panion ;  but  Mark  Sutherland,  habitually  abstemious, 
suffered  his  glass  to  be  filled  once,  and  then  excused 
himself;  and  Mr.  Ashley  filled  and  quaffed  glass  after 
glass,  momentarily  more  and  more  garrulous,  noisy, 


CASHMERE.  317 

and  familiar  with  Oriole — calling  her  to  his  side, 
drawing  her  towards  him,  pinching  her  cheek  and 
pulling  her  ears  with  maudlin  freedom ;  while  the 
poor  girl,  blushing  with  shame  and  confusion,  and 
weeping  with  grief  and  terror,  sought  in  vain  to 
escape. 

Mark  Sutherland,  deeply  offended  with  the  scene, 
would  gladly  have  withdrawn,  but  that  he  felt  his 
presence  to  be  some  protection  to  the  poor  girl ;  he 
would  gladly  have  interfered  for  her  succour,  but  that 
he  knew  such  interference,  far  from  saving  her,  would 
hurry  on  her  destruction.  It  is  hard  to  be  wise  and 
prudent  when  the  blood  is  boiling;  and  it  is  uncer- 
tain how  long  he  would  have  remained  so,  had  not  a 
bell  sounded  in  a  distant  part  of  the  house,  and 
Oriole,  taking  advantage  of  the  circumstance,  ex- 
claimed, "  It  is  my  mistress,"  and  made  her  escape. 

Mr.  Ashley  poured  out  and  quaffed  glass  after  glass 
of  wine,  until  his  ranting  mood  was  merging  into  a 
stupid  one ;  and  Mark  Sutherland  seized  the  first  op- 
portunity to  rise  and  leave  the  table,  and  pass  into  the 
drawing-room. 

That  elegant  drawing-room  which  you  may  recol- 
lect communicated  with  Miss  Sutherland's  beautiful 
boudoir — how  changed  since  he  saw  it  last !  Desola- 
tion was  creeping  even  into  the  sanctuary  of  the 
house.  He  had  scarcely  time  to  note  this  by  the 
sickly  light  of  the  moon  through  the  open  shutters, 
when  a  loud,  familiar  voice  in  the  hall  arrested  his 
attention — 

"Where  is  he?  In  the  drawing-room?  And  no 
light  there  ?  Get  a  candle,  directly,  you  scoundrel ! 
and  light  me  in  there!  I  shall  break  my  shins 


318  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

over  these  empty  baskets  and  upset  stools — do  you 
hear?" 

And  soon  after  entered  a  slovenly  man-servant 
bringing  a  guttering  tallow  candle,  stuck  in  a  mil- 
dewed silver  candlestick,  which  he  sat  upon  a  dusty 
and  spotted  marble  pier-table.  He  was  followed 
closely  by  Mr.  Billy  Boiling,  who,  with  outstretched 
arms,  and  almost  shouting  his  welcome,  ran  to  Mark, 
and  clasped  him  around  the  body,  exclaiming,  sob- 
bingly — 

"  My  dear — dear — bo-oy  1  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you ! 
And  how  are  you?  And  how  did  you  leave  little 
Rose?  And  when  did  you  get  here?  And  nobody 
to  welcome  you,  but  that  brandy-swilling  beast  in 

there ! Begone,  you  black  villain,  you !  Who  gave 

you  leave  to  stand  there  eavesdropping,  eh  ? 

That's  a  field  nigger,  Mark!  Every  decent  house 
servant,  man  and  maid,  that  we  had  in  the  world,  has 
fallen  under  the  hammer  long  ago — all,  except  Oriole, 
whom  that  fellow  yonder  bought  in  for  his  own  pur- 
poses. Ah  1  Mark,  times  are  changed,  my  boy,  since 
you  were  here !  Heigh-ho  1  '  Sic  transit  gloria  mundi,"1 " 
said  Mr.  Boiling,  sinking  into  a  threadbare  velvet 
chair,  and  wiping  his  rosy  face — as  fat,  fair,  and  rosy 
as  ever. 

"You  are  not  changed,  uncle,  except  that  you  ap- 
pear to  be  in  even  finer  health  than  ever." 

"Me!  Why,  I'm  dying  of  mortification  and  grief  1 
lam.  I  have  got  an  organic  disease  of  the  heart. 
Yes,  of  the  heart.  The  string  the  most  strained  the 
soonest  snaps  I  Heigh-ho  1" 

"  Why,  I  declare,  Uncle  Billy,  I  never  in  all  my 


CASHMERE.  319 

life  saw  a  man  in  such  perfect  health.  You  are  fatter 
and  rosier  than  ever  1" 

"  Fatter  and  rosier !  Lord  help  your  perspicasity  I 
It's — it's  dropsy,  and — and — -fever  I  That's  what  it  is 
— this  fat  and  rosy." 

"  Keassure  yourself,  Uncle  Billy,  and  tell  me  how  it 
fares  with  all  our  friends." 

"  All  going  to  the  dogs — all  going  to  the  dogs — 
except  them  that  are  going  to  the  demon  1" 

"  Nay,  Uncle  Billy,  I  hope  not — any  more  than  you 
are  going  into  a  consumption.  How  are  they  all  at 
Siletitshades?  How  is  my  dear  mother?" 

" Silentshades !  Mother!  Heigh!  didn't  you  know 
they  had  sold  Silentshades  long  ago,  and  moved  to 
Texas  ?"  exclaimed  Uncle  Billy,  with  a  look  of  "un- 
bounded astonishment. 

"  I  knew  nothing  about  it.  This  is  the  first  word 
I  have  heard  of  it!  What  on  earth  could  have 
tempted  my  mother  to  sell  her  home  and  move  away 
from  all  her  friends  ?" 

"What  could  have  tempted  her? — what  could  have 
tempted  her  ?"  repeated  Uncle  Billy,  mockingly,  shut- 
ting his  eyes,  pinching  his  lips,  and  bobbing  up  his 
nose  and  chin,  with  petulance  and  contempt.  "  What 
Could  have  tempted  her  to  marry  Doctor  Wells,  at  her 
age? — a  woman  of  forty,  whose  matrimonial  feelings 
should  all  be  quiet  ?  What  could  have  tempted  her 
to  do  that?" 

"  I  suppose  my  mother  was  lonesome." 

"  Oh !  lonesome  be  hanged !  Wasn't  /  there — her 
natural  born  brother — to  keep  her  company?  I  don't 
brag — but  you  know  what  company  I  am,  nephew." 

uYes,"  said  Mark,  suppressing  a  smile. 


820  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

"  Well,  I  was  there  to  take  care  of  her,  and  protect 
her,  and  keep  her  company,  and  cowhide  her  niggers 
— although  that  last  is  very  laborious  exertion,  and 
always  put  me  in  a  profuse  perspiration,  and  gives  rne 
a  palpitation  of  the  heart — the  thoughtless  creatures, 
to  put  me  to  the  trouble  of  fatiguing  myself  so.  And 
now,  if  you  want  to  know  what  tempted  your  mother 
to  sell  her  home  and  leave  all  her  friends,  I'll  just  tell 
you — vanity." 

"  Vanity  1" 

"  Yes,  vanity — the  wish  to  be  thought  generous,  and 
disinterested,  and  confiding"  sneered  Uncle  Billy. 

Mark  Sutherland  reddened. 

"  My  dearest  mother  was  all  that  in  reality,  without 
wishing  to  be  thought  so  1" 

"  I  tell  you  'twas  vanity — vanity  that  tempted  her  to 
sell  her  home — vanity  that  tempted  her  to  marry — 
vanity  that  tempted  her  first  to  listen  to  a  suitor — a 
woman  'of  her  age  I  But  I  do  think  women  are  the 
most  incorrigible — the  most  provoking — the  most 
hopeless — and  of  all  women,  middle-aged  widows  are 
the  most  desperate  fools  I" 

"  Uncle  Billy,  I  suppose,  as  an  old  bachelor,  you  have 
a  license  to  rail  at  women  in  general,  and,  as  an  elder 
brother,  you  have  liberty  to  be  unjust  to  your  sister. 
My  mother  was  a  handsome  woman,  in  her  prime,  and 
it  appears  to  me  not  unnatural  that  she  should  have 
married.  But  if  you  thought  otherwise,  you  should 
have  told  her  so." 

"For  what  good?  A  cat  may  release  a  mouse 
from  its  claws ;  a  rattle-snake  a  charmed  bird  from 
its  jaws ;  the  grave  give  up  its  victim  ;  but  never  cat 
held  mouse,  or  snake  bird,  or  grave  victim  with  such 


CASHMERE.  321 

a  death-grip  as  a  middle-aged  widow  holds  her  last 
lover !" 

"Just  now  you  told  me  that  Dr.  Wells  tempted  rny 
mother  into  this  marriage — now,  you  lay  the  responsi- 
bility upon  her.  That  is  like  you,  old,  impartial 
justice,  Mr.  '  Bothsides.'  " 

"All -true.  They  tempted  each  other — she,  him, 
with  her  handsome  property !  he,  her,  with  his  hand- 
some person !  He  was  bent  on  having  her  plantation ! 
— she,  on  having  him.  And  so  they  soldered  an  en- 
gagement that  Satan  himself,  with  his  sledge  hammer, 
could  not  have  shivered.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it, 
Mark !  I  kept  a  sharp  look-out  on  that  chap  when 
he  first  came  prowling  about  Silentshades.  I  was 
tempted  to  shoot  him  by  mistake,  for  a  catamount. 
But  /  twigged  him !  Very  little  of  that  palavering 
courtship,  that  /  didn't  hear !  Sure  as  ever  they'd  be 
on  the  piazza,  Pd  be  in  the  parlour  under  the  window, 
listening." 

"But  what  did  you  think  of  yourself,  Mr.  Boiling, 
for  your  eavesdropping  ?" 

"  Thought  I  was  doing  my  duty  by  my  sister,  to 
circumvent  a  gay  deceiver !" 

Mark  frowned. 

"  Oh,  now  you  don't  know  how  old  pill-box  and 
blister- plaster  could  court !  You  should  have  heard 
him  talk  about  that  'regal  brow' — 'that,  that  face!' 
(as  if  there  was  no  word  good  enough  to  describe  it) — 
and  '  those  holy  eyes' — and  '  my  darling,  oh,  my  dar- 
ling'— and  '  my  lovely  Helen' — and  '  it  is  too  much,  too 
much  to  crave  of  Heaven'  (her  love  you  know  he 
meant) — and  'oh,  my  dearest' — and  'this  little  hand' 
— and  all  the  rest  of  the  lying  balderdash,  which  I 
20 


322  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEAKL   RIVER. 

suppose  was  mighty  sweet  to  a  woman  who  had  not 
heard  such  words  for  twenty  years." 

"  And  how  do  you  know  it  was  not  perfectly  sin- 
cere ?"  exclaimed  Mark,  indignantly  rising  and  walk- 
ing away. 

"What,  at  forty?"  coolly  inquired  Uncle  Billy, 
getting  up  and  walking  about,  and  fanning  himself, 
and  sitting  down  again. 

But  Mr.  Sutherland  was  much  too  deeply  interested 
in  his  mother's  fate  to  keep  silence.  He  returned,  and 
resumed  his  seat,  and  inquired — 

"  ]Jas  my  mother's  marriage  turned  out  happy  ?" 

"Don't  know — can't  say,  I'm  sure!" 

"You  have  not  told  me  yet  why  she  sold  her 
home." 

"  Dr.  Wells  tempted  her  to  do  it  for  his  sake.  This 
was  the  way  of  it :  Lord  bless  your  soul,  he  was  too 
old  and  cunning  to  stop  courting  her  after  the  honey- 
moon, or  at  least  until  he  had  got  his  hands  on  the 
property ;  on  the  contrary,  they  sat  on  the  bench  of 
the  piazza  against  the  parlour  window  blinds,  and 
courted  more  than  ever !  And  I  laid  on  the  lounge 
under  the  same  window  in  the  parlour,  and  listened 
more  than  ever.  And  then  he  cooed  to  her,  and  called 
her1  My  boon,'  'My  blessing,' and  'My  bride;'  and 
told  her  what  a  noble  woman  she  was — how  full  of 
sensibility,  benevolence,  and  disinterestedness — how 
full  of  honour,  truth,  and  courage." 

"Well,  sir,  it  was  truth!  I  can  easily  understand 
how  much  truth  should  have  burst  impulsively  from 
the  lips  of  any  one  intimately  associated  with  my  dear 
mother!"  exclaimed  Mark,  impatiently. 


CASH  MERE.  323 

Uncle  Billy  shut  his  eyes,  and  bobbed  up  his  chin 
contemptuously,  and  then  resumed  : 

"  Truth,  was  it  ?  Well,  you  shall  hear  the  rest  of 
the  truth.  By-and-by  he  began  to  take  the  tone  of  a 
wise,  affectionate  guide  and  husband — which  I  have 
always  noticed  is  very  charming  to  good  women, 
especially  when  it  is  mixed  up  with  a  little  apprecia- 
tive admiration — and  he  told  her  again  what  a  high- 
principled,  noble  woman  she  was,  and  how  she  had 
only  to  get  rid  of  one  foible — one  little  weakness — and 
she  would  be  a  glorious  woman — a  perfect  woman ! 
And  she  pressed  to  know  what  it  was,  and  she  was 
willing  to  get  rid  of  any  fault  he  disapproved.  '  Oh,' 
he  told  her,  '  it  was  a  want  of  trustfulness — a  want  of 
that  confiding  spirit  so  beautiful  in  woman — it  was  no 
fault ;  only  but  for  that  one  small  foible  she  would  be 
such  a  glorious  woman !'  Well,  Mark,  to  convince 
him  that  she  could  exercise  a  confiding  spirit,  and  so 
become  '  a  glorious  woman'  all  out,  she  gives  him  the 
full  possession  and  perfect  control  of  all  her  property, 
real  and  personal ;  and  the  upshot  of  it  all  is,  that  Dr. 
Wells  has  sold  Silentshades,  and  they  have  emigrated 
to  Texas !" 

"  Was  my  mother  willing  to  go?" 

"  I  don't  know,  Mark.  After  parting  with  Silent- 
shades,  they  remained  here  at  Cashmere  about  three 
months  before  getting  off  to  Texas ;  and  I  thought  in 
that  three  months  your  mother  altered  more  than  any 
one  I  had  ever  seen." 

"  Poor,  dear  mother  1" 

"There  was  another  thing  that  gave  her  trouble. 
The  Doctor  certainly  did  neglect  her;  and  then  he 
took  a  great  fancy  to  purchase  a  beautiful  maid-ser- 


32-1  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

vant  from  Clement  Sutherland — I  dare  say  you  re- 
member the  girl — she  was  Mrs.  Ashley's  own  maid, 
Oriole." 

"Yes,  I  know"— 

"  Mrs.  Ashley — India — wished  to  part  with  her,  too ; 
and  I  dare  say  the  sale  would  have  been  effected,  only 
there  was  an  execution,  and  Oriole,  with  half  a  dozen 
of  the  likeliest  of  the  house  servants,  both  men  and 
maids,  were  seized,  and  put  up  at  auction.  Well, 
when  Oriole  was  placed  upon  the  block,  there  was 
pretty  high  bidding,  I  assure  you.  The  three  princi- 
pal bidders  were  a  New  Orleans  trader — who  seemed 
determined  to  have  the  girl  at  any  price — and  Dr. 
Wells,  and  Mr.  Ashley.  But  Dr.  Wells  and  Mr.  Ashley 
outbid  the  trader,  and  had  the  field  all  to  themselves ; 
and  the  contest  ran  very  high  between  them.  I  wish 
you  could  have  seen  those  two  men  bidding  against 
each  other  for  that  girl!  They  became  excited — 
angry — their  eyes  grew  blood-shot — they  glanced  at 
each  other  like  tigers — their  glances  flashed  fire! 
They  ran  the  price  up  to  a  ridiculous  pitch.  Finally, 
Dr.  Wells,  frowning,  sat  down.  Mr.  Ashley  was  the 
purchaser.  '  Thank  Heaven,'  said  your  mother,  when 
she  heard  the  issue.  Mrs.  Ashley  curled  her  lip  in 
proud  silence !" 

Mark  Sutherland  dropped  his  head  upon  his  hands, 
and  groaned.  A  pause  ensued,  which  after  some  time 
was  broken  by  Mr.  Sutherland. 

"  You  mentioned  an  execution  on  the  premises — is 
it  possible  my  uncle  was  in  debt  beyond  his  means 
of  cash  payment  ?" 

"  Umph !  I  don't  think  any  one  in  the  State  would 
consider  it  worth  while  to  ask  tne  question  now? 


CASHMERE.  325 

"  I  do  not  understand  how  his  colossal  fortune  could 
have  so  sunken." 

"  Ah,  well !  now  I'll  tell  you  his  fortune  was  not  so 
colossal  after  all.  To  be  sure,  he  owned  several 
thousand  acres  of  land  ;  but  reflect  that  nine-tenths  of 
that  was  pine  barrens  and  cypress  swamps,  producing 
nothing  and  costing  considerable  in  taxes;  and  he 
owned  several  hundred  negroes ;  but  remember  that 
one-third  of  them  were  old  people,  and  one-third  of 
them  children,  who  had  to  be  supported  out  of  the 
labour  of  the  others ;  and  he  owned  this  very  magni- 
ficent seat  of  Cashmere ;  but  consider  how  much  of  his 
capital  was  invested  in  the  building,  laying  out  and 
adorning  of  this  house  and  grounds,  and  how  much 
in  debt  it  left  him,  and  you  will  come  to  a  fairer  con- 
clusion in  your  estimate  of  your  uncle's  fortune.  And 
then  this  great  commercial  crash,  that  has  ruined  so 
many  people,  has  affected  him  deeply.  He  lost  one  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars  by  the  villany  of  Claxton  &  Co., 
manufacturers,  and  nearly  as  much  more  by  the  failure 
of  Fleece  and  Brother,  importers,  Liverpool.  And 
what  was  worse  than  all,  he  made  a  desperate  attempt 
to  retrieve  his  fortunes  by  speculation,  and  failed, J 
with  a  stupendous  loss.  It  was  like  a  gambler's  last 
stake,  and  he  lost  it — and  now  he  is  ready  to  blow  his 
own  brains  out  1  Lord  grant  that  your  wife's  fortune 
may  be  safe,  Mark,  which  I  doubt." 

"  Oh !  certainly ;  I  have  not  the  slightest  misgiving 
of  it.  It  was  real  estate,  and  could  not  have  been 
staked  in  any  way,  you  know." 

Mr.  Boiling  shook  his  head. 

Unheedful  of  that  wise  gesture,  Mr.  Sutherland 
asked,  "  And  how  does  my  cousin  India  bear  this  ?" 


326  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   1'EAUT,   RIVER. 

"I  don't  know — I  don't  think  she  cures  about  it. 
Mark,  perhaps  I  oughtn't  to  tell  you,  but  I  don't 
think  she  cares  for  anything,  or  has  ever  cared  for 
anything,  since  you  and  she  broke  off,  nearly  seven 
years  ago.  She  never  cared  a  cent  for  the  man  she 
married" — 

"Hush!  you  must  not  say  that!" 

"But  I  will  say  it,  because  it's  the  solemn  truth. 
She  never  cared  a  sous,  cent,  marquee,  for  him,  though 
he  loved  the  very  ground  she  walked  on.  If  ever  you 
saw  a  man  infatuated  with  a  woman,  St.  Gerald  was 
with  India;  his  eyes  followed  her  fondly  wherever  she 
moved.  Yes,  a  year  after  they  were  married,  I  saw 
him  slily  take  up  a  glove  of  hers,  and  pet  it,  and  talk 
to  it,  and  kiss  it,  and  put  it  in  his  bosom,  as  if  it  had 
been  a  live  thing — the  consummate  idiot !  And  the 
same  day  I  saw  him  strike  her  down  before  him  with  a 
blow!" 

Mark  Sutherland  started  to  his  feet,  and  gazed  wildly 
at  the  speaker,  who  reiterated — 

"Yes,  I  did;  I  saw  that  with  my  eyes!" 

"And  stood  by,  and  permitted  a  man  to  strike  a 
woman  I" 

"I  never  interfere  between  man  and  wife.  Besides, 
what  business  had  she  to  deceive  and  marry  him, 
while  she  loved  another — and  to  meet  his  attentions 
with  aversion — and  finally  to  be  found  sobbing 
hysterically  over  a  lock  of  black  hair,  when  his  was 
brown?  No,  if  he  had  killed  her  on  the  spot,  I  should 
have  been  sorry  for — him.  He  loved  her  truly  and 
well.  She  loathed  him.  I  have  seen  her  shudder  all 
over,  if  he  did  but  press  her  hand,  or  stroke  her 
dainty  curls.  He  felt  her  repulsion;  it  drove  him 


CASHMERE.  327 

mad !  To  sum  up  all,  Mark,  as  I  said  before,  a  curse 
is  on  the  place  and  on  the  people;  they  are  all  going 

to  the  dogs,  who  are  not  going  to  the  d 1 !  But 

now,  tell  me  something  about  yourself.  You  are  a 
Judge  of  the  Court,  I  hear?" 

"  I  have  that  honour." 

"  Well,  I  always  said  you'd  turn  out  well !  d d 

if  I  didn't !  I  shall  live  to  see  you  Chief  Justice  of 
the  Supreme  Court  yet !  And  hark  you,  nephew ;  / 
intend  to  go  home  and  live  with  you.  I  feel  it  my  duty 
to  encourage  you.  I'll  stick  to  you,  Mark.  I  don't 
care  what  Clement  Sutherland  and  the  rest  say.  I'll 
stick  to  you,  my  boy.  You  shall  never  have  it  to  say 
that  your  old  uncle  fell  away  from  you.  But  now,  tell 
me,  how  is  your  little  wife  ?  Well,  I  know,  else  you 
would  not  be  here,  eh  ?" 

"  Eosalie  is  well,  but  not  strong." 

"Never  was,  poor  little  thing.  And  how  are  the 
little  children,  and  how  many  of  them  are  there,  and 
are  they  girls  or  boys,  or  both,  and  what  are  their 
names  ?" 

"  We  have  no  children." 

"What!  lost  them  all?  Well,  poor  little  things, 
they  are  better  off!" 

"  We  never  had  any  children." 

"Oh-h-h!  Whew-w-w!"  whistled  Mr.  Boiling, 
rather  disconcerted;  then  resuming,  he  said — "well, 
neither  have  the  Ashleys.  That's  strange!  What 

the  d 1's  that  hubbub  in  the  dining-room  ?  Ugh  ! 

It's  the  niggers  toting  that  animal  up  to  bed !  He, 
who  seven  years  ago  was  called  the  brightest  rising 
star  on  the  political  horizon !  Now  look  at  him !  That 


328  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

is  India's  fault!  What  tremendous  power  women 
have  for  evil!" 

"And  for  good!"  said  Mark  Sutherland,  as  his 
thoughts  flew  to  his  guardian  angel,  Rosalie. 

Wearied  with  his  journey,  and  longing  for  the  soli- 
tude that  would  leave  him  free  to  reflect  upon  all  that 
he  had  just  heard,  Mark  Sutherland  expressed  a  wish 
to  retire.  Mr.  Boiling  rang  for  the  night  lamps,  and 
they  parted  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

INDIA. 

"Dow  changed  since  last  her  speaking  eye 
Glanced  gladness  round  the  glittering  room, 

Where  high-born  men  were  proud  to  wuit — 

Where  beauty  watched  to  imitate 
Her  gentle  voice  and  lovely  mien — 

And  gather  from  her  air  and  gate 
The  graces  of  its  queen !" — Byron. 

EARLY  the  next  morning  Mark  Sutherland  de- 
scended to  the  drawing-room.  No  one  was  there 
except  Oriole,  who  had  just  stepped  from  her  mis- 
tress's boudoir,  and  was  crossing  the  room,  on  her 
way  to  some  other  part  of  the  house.  Once  more 
Mark  Sutherland  was  mournfully  affected  by  the  mar- 
vellous, the  fatal  beauty  of  the  poor  girl.  As  she 
met  and  was  passing  him,  with  eyes  cast  down,  cheeks 
painfully  flushed,  and  heart  beating,  as  it  had  too  well 
learned  to  beat  with  fear  at  the  look  of  man,  his  heart 


IKDIA.  329 

was  moved  with  deep  pity.  He  had  known  her  from 
her  infancy ;  he  held  out  his  hand,  and  spoke  to  her, 
saying — "How  do  you  do,  Oriole?  You  have  not 
spoken  to  me  since  my  arrival."  But  without  touch- 
ing his  hand,  or  even  venturing  a  glance  at  his  face, 
the  maiden  dropped  a  quick  courtesy  as  she  passed, 
and  hurried  on  her  errand. 

"  Poor,  hunted,  trembling  deer !"  said  Mark :  "  she 
cannot  even  trust  a  friend.  Is  it  possible  to  save 
her?" 

His  thoughts  dwelt  with  painful  but  vain  intensity 
upon  the  hapless  girl,  and  it  was  many  minutes  before 
the  old  familiar  scene  around  him — suggestive  as  it 
was  of  the  most  joyous  as  well  as  the  most  painful 
passages  in  his  past  life — could  recall  him  to  him- 
self. 

He  gazed  around.  The  sliding  doors  and  the 
flowing  curtains  that  divided  the  boudoir  from  the 
saloon,  were  drawn  entirely  back,  revealing  the  whole 
apartment.  Yes ;  here  was  the  same  saloon,  the  temple 
of  joyous  reunions,  and  the  same  boudoir,  the  shrine 
of  beauty,  love,  and  happiness.  The  same,  yet  how 
changed  from  all  the  pristine  splendour  of  the  past ! 
Then  all  waa  order,  beauty,  freshness,  and  enjoyment. 
Now  all  was  indifference,  neglect,  decay,  and  desola- 
tion. Even  there,  in  the  sacred  boudoir  of  India — the 
latest  sanctuary  of  elegance  and  luxury — rust  and 
must,  mildew  and  canker,  had  crept  over  all.  There 
the  sumptuous  hangings  of  purple  and  gold,  that  made 
the  bower  seem  like  some  gorgeous  oriental  sunset 
scene,  were  now  faded  and  tarnished — the  royal  purple 
turned  to  a  dull,  streaked  brown  and  drab — the  gold 
cankered  with  green  verdigris.  The  cheval  mirrors 


830          INDIA.      THE    PEAUL   OF   PEARL   1UVER. 

were  specked  thickly  with  mildew,  and  obscured  with 
fly-stains;  the  marble  tables  stained  and  smirched; 
and,  for  the  fragrance  of  fresh  flowers,  a  close,  damp, 
stifling  smell  of  must  pervaded  the  apartment.  All 
was  cheerless,  hopeless,  desolate. 

His  melancholy  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  another  figure.  It  was  India.  And  pre- 
pared as  he  had  been  to  meet  a  great  change  in  the 
"  Pearl  of  Pearl  River,"  he  scarcely  recognised  her. 
The  superficial  is  ever  the  first  to  strike  us.  He 
noticed  that  the  gorgeous  and  flowing  drapery  which 
had  once  graced  her  form,  was  now  replaced  by  a 
plain  black  dress.  The  rich,  warm,  olive  bloom  of 
her  complexion  had  given  place  to  the  paleness  of 
ivory.  Naught  remained  of  her  glorious  beauty  but 
the  luxuriant  amber-hued  ringlets  and  the  large,  dark, 
mournful,  soul -thrilling  eyes.  More  of  real  self-pos- 
session she  exhibited  now  than  she  had  ever  shown  in 
former  times.  She  advanced  towards  Mark,  holding 
out  her  hand,  and  welcomed  him  with  these  words : 

"I  am  happy  to  see  you  again  at  Cashmere — after 
so  many  years — my  dear  cousin — why  could  we  not 
be  friends  ?" 

Her  voice  faltered  slightly ;  and  when  she  paused, 
Mr.  Sutherland  cordially  grasped  her  outstretched 
hands,  and  said,  while  he  pressed  them — 

"  We  are  friends,  my  dearest  India;  at  least,  I  can 
speak  for  myself  and  for  one  who  loves  you  not  less 
than  I  do — my  wife  Rosalie." 

With  a  spasmodic  catch  India  snatched  away  her 
hands ;  and,  quivering  through  every  nerve,  sat  down, 
and  veiled  her  face  with  her  hands,  and, 


INDIA.  331 

"  It  is  a  trying  world  !" — burst  from  her  quivering 
lips. 

Raising  his  eyebrows  in  painful  surprise,  Mark 
Sutherland  gazed  earnestly  at  her  for  an  instant,  and 
then  turned  away  his  eyes,  waiting  reverently  for  her 
self-recovery.  Soon  she  looked  up,  and,  faintly 
smiling,  said — 

"I  have  had  much,  oh!  very  much,  indeed,  to  try 
me  of  late,  my  cousin.  Everything  is  going  to  ruin 
with  us — everything,  everything." 

"  I  trust  not.  Your  father  is  embarrassed,  but  with 
the  advice  and  assistance  of  his  friends,  all,  I  hope, 
will  be  brought  to  a  happy  issue." 

"  Ah,  no !  but  it  is  not  of  our  desperate  affairs  I 
wished  to  speak.  Tell  me  of  your  own.  You  have 
been  successful  in  life  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  successful,  thanks,  under  Divine 
Providence,  to  the  constant  sympathy  and  co-operation 
of  my  faithful  Rosalie." 

Again  India  hastily  raised  her  hands,  to  screen  the 
spasm  of  pain  that  traversed  her  countenance ;  and — 
"Why  will  he  stab  me  with  that  name?"  she  thought; 
but   she   answered    calmly — "Rosalie   is   an  amiable  . 
woman ;  how  is  she  ?" 

"  Well,  and  very  busy." 

"  And  your  family  ?" 

"  We  have  no  family;  we  are  all  the  world  to  each 
other." 

"  Tell  me  how  you  have  got  on  since  I  saw  you 
last." 

Mr.  Sutherland  began,  and  told  her  the  principal 
circumstances  of  his  life  since  their  last  parting — 


332  INDIA.      THE   PEAHL   OF   1'EAKL   KIVER. 

dwelling  frequently  uponliis  Rosalie's  hope  and  faith, 
and  persevering  energy. 

"And  so  Rosalie  has  been  the  angel  of  his  life,"  she 
muttered  inaudibly  between  her  white  lips. 

A  pause  ensued,  which  was  broken  at  last  by  India. 

"  All  is  sadly  changed  here ;  my  father  has  been 
very  unfortunate,  and  Mr.  Ashley 1  cannot  com- 
prehend it !  I  see  ruin  gathering  darkly  around  us 
all,  without  the  power — yes,  and  without  the  will — to 
avert  it,  any  more  than  I  could  avert  an  earthquake, 
whose  premonitory  jars  were  shaking  us !"  she  said, 
in  a  despairing  tone. 

Mark  Sutherland  made  no  comment.  What  could 
he  have  said  to  console  her  that  would  not  have  been 
false?  He  thought  that  not  so  would  Rosalie  have 
met  misfortune — with  inert  despair.  And  then  he 
remembered  th.it  much  of  this  impending  ruin  the 
beautiful  India  had  drawn  upon  her  own  head,  and 
the '  heads  of  those  who  loved  her,  but  whom,  alas ! 
she  loved  not.  He  felt  relieved  when,  at  this  point,  a 
summons  to  the  breakfast-room  terminated  the  inter- 
view. 

At  the  breakfast-table  appeared  India,  Mark  Suther- 
land, St.  Gerald  Ashley,  and  Mr.  Boiling.  Oriole  served 
tea  and  coffee  from  a  side-table.  Clement  Sutherland 
had  not  come  home.  Mr.  Ashley's  face  was  bloated, 
and  his  eyes  blood-shot — the  effects  of  the  preceding 
evening's  excess  were  but  too  plain.  He  sat  silent 
and  morose,  and  ate  but  little.  India  maintained  a 
cold,  severe  aspect,  never  speaking  to  or  looking  at 
him.  Mark  Sutherland  felt  himself  de  trop  and  uncom- 
fortable, but  for  Uncle  Billy,  who  kept  up  au  inces- 
sant monologue,  asking  a  score  of  questions  about  the 


INDIA.  338 

'»orth-west,  and  volunteering  many  comments.  Mr. 
Sutherland  was  rejoiced  when  the  gloomy  meal  was 
over,  and  earnestly  wished  that  the  master  of  the 
house  might  soon  return,  and  his  business  and  his 
visit  be  concluded  at  once.  He  expressed  this  wish 
to  Mr.  Boiling,  who  hastened  to  reply — 

"And  so  do  I,  nephew!  and  so  do  I!  For  this  is 
the  case  every  day.  Each  night  that  fellow  goes  to 
bed  tipsy,  and  each  morning  appears  at  the  breakfast 
table  in  a  state  of  bloated  torpor !  Yes,  Lord  knows  do 
I  wish  that  Clem.  Sutherland  would  oome,  and  we 
could  finish  our  business  and  leave ;  for  you  know  I'm 
going  home  with  you,  Mark.  I  intend  to  stick  to  you. 
I  admire  your  principles — always  did — Pm  your 
man." 

The  day  advanced,  and  still  Clement  Sutherland 
did  not  make  his  appearance.  The  late  dinner  was 
served,  and  passed  as  gloomily  as  the  breakfast,  and 
still  he  came  not.  The  house  was  growing  intoler- 
able to  Mark,  who  summoned  one  of  the  servants, 
and  inquired  where  he  should  be  likely  to  find  his 
master ;  and  was  informed  that  he  might  be  found  at 
the  Planters'  Rest,  where  he  usually  stopped  when 
business  took  him  to  the  village.  Mr.  Sutherland  then 
ordered  his  horse,  and,  while  waiting  for  him  to  be 
saddled  and  brought  to  the  door,  went  and  took  leave 
of  Mr.  Boiling,  leaving  his  compliments  and  adieus  to 
Mrs.  Ashley,  who  had  retired  to  her  room  to  take  her 
afternoon  rest.  Then  he  mounted  his  horse,  and 
took  the  road  to  the  village,  intending,  if  possible,  to 
have  an  interview  and  a  settlement  with  his  uncle, 
and  to  make  his  head -quarters  at  the  village  inn,  as 
loner  as  he  should  be  obliged  to  remain. 


334  INDIA.      THE    PEARL    OF    PEARL    RIVER. 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

FORGERY. 

"  Oh  !  cursed  lust  of  gold  !  how  for  thy  sake 
The  fool  throws  up  his  interest?  in  both  worlds  ! 
First  lost  in  this — then  damned  in  that  to  come." — Blair. 

IN  the  meanwhile,  the  object  of  his  solicitude,  Cle- 
ment Sutherland,  sat  in  a  private  parlour  of  the 

Planters'  Hotel,  in  the  village  of  C ,  afraid  to 

return  home,  with  wild  thoughts  of  flight  darting 
through  his  oppressed,  distracted  head  I  A  victim 
to  the  lust  of  gold,  he  had  served  the  devil  too  well 
to  be  deserted  of  him  at  the  last  hour.  And  now  he 
sat,  with  his  prematurely  whitened  head  bowed  upon 
his  cramped  and  shrivelled  hands,  bitterly  trying  to 
recall  the  wiles  and  review  the  crooked  paths  by  which 
the  fiend  had  led  him. 

In  youth,  his  besetting  sin  had  been  a  reasonable 
wish  of  independence,  and  he  called  it  thrift ;  and  it 
seemed  to  justify  every  kind  of  parsimony  and  selfish- 
ness. In  maturity  it  became  a  craving  desire  for 
wealth,  and  he  named  it  prudent  foresight,  wise  pro- 
vision for  the  future,  and  it  appeared  to  excuse  every 
sort  of  exaction  from  health,  life,  and  limb,  of  his 
labourers,  or  "  uttermost  farthing"  from  his  debtors. 
In  midlife  it  grew  an  absorbing  passion,  and  he  termed 
it  parental  devotion,  and  it  seemed  to  palliate  every 
species  of  injustice,  cruelty,  and  dishonesty.  In  his 
age  it  reached  its  full  development,  as  a  monomania, 
winch  he  no  longer  sought  to  sanctify  by  any  holy 


FORGERY.  335 

name,  when  it  led  him  into  crime — into  the  crime  of 
forgery  ! 

Some  months  before,  a  most  promising  opportunity 
offered  of  making  a  great  speculation  by  the  invest- 
ment of  a  considerable  sum  of  money.  But  how  to 
raise  this  sum  ?  He  had  neither  cash  nor  credit ;  and 
all  his  estate  in  which  he  had  retained  more  than  a 
life  interest,  was  mortgaged  to  nearly  its  full  value. 
There  was  one  means  of  raising  the  funds  suggested 
to  his  mind,  but  his  soul  shrank  from  it.  He  could 
anticipate  his  ward's  majority  by  a  few  months,  and 
borrow  her  signature  only  for  a  power  of  attorney  and 
a  deed  of  mortgage — that  was  all.  And  the  money 
could  be  raised  on  her  real  estate,  and  the  sum  in- 
vested, and  the  profits  secured.  And  then  the  mort- 
gage could  be  released  and  destroyed  before  the  (he 
hesitated  to  give  the  act  its  proper  name,  even  in  his 
thought)  forgery  could  be  discovered  and  exposed. 
So  the  tempter  persuaded  him. 

He  had  never  trained  his  moral  strength  by  re- 
sisting slight  temptations ;  and  now  that  the  tempta- 
tion was  very  great,  he  fell  before  it.  Scarcely  daring 
to  think  on  what  he  was  about  to  do,  he  left  the 
neighbourhood  of  Cashmere  for  two  weeks,  and  on 
his  return,  laid  before  his  correspondent,  the  usurer 
at  C ,  a  power  of  attorney  and  a  deed  of  mort- 
gage, seemingly  duly  signed,  witnessed  and  attested. 
Upon  these  the  requisite  funds  were  borrowed,  em- 
barked in  the  speculation,  and  lost ! 

And  now  the  dread  day  of  account  had  come,  and 
he  sat  overwhelmed,  crushed,  unable  to  fly,  afraid  to 
go  home,  yet  fitfully  and  by  turns  impelled  to  each 
course.  It  was  while  he  sat  there,  by  turns  stupified 


336          INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

and  distracted,  that  the  door  was  opened  by  a  waiter, 
who  announced — 

"Judge  Sutherland!" 

And  retired,  as  Mark  walked  in. 

Clement  Sutherland  started  to  his  feet,  pale  and 
wild-looking,  and  gazed,  without  speaking,  at  his 
nephew. 

"  Sir,  you  are  ill !"  exclaimed  the  latter,  anxiously, 
stepping  up  to  him. 

Muttering  some  inaudible  words  between  his  white 
lips,  the  old  man  sunk  down,  collapsed,  into  his  chair. 
Mark  hastily  stepped  to  the  bell-rope,  to  ring  for 
wine.  But  the  guilty  man,  in  the  confusion  of  his 
trouble,  misunderstood  the  intention,  and  stretching 
out  his  trembling,  almost  palsied  arm,  bade  him  "Stop, 
for  Christ's  sake !" 

Mark  returned,  with  looks  of  interest. 

"  I  did  not  mean  to — to  wrong  her !  God  knows  1 
did  not !"  said  the  old  man,  in  a  quivering  tone. 

"Wrong  whom?"  added  Mark,  regarding  him  with 
much  surprise  and  anxiety;  "sir,  sir,  you  are  really 
ill,  and  I  must  summon  some  assistance." 

"No,  no!  you  are  mistaken.  Bring  no  witnesses. 
It  is — it  is — a  family  affair.  Now,  I  suppose,  you  will 
have  your  revenge  I"  exclaimed  Clement  Sutherland, 
with  a  frightened,  chattering  smile. 

Without  more  ado,  Mark  hastened  to  the  door,  with 
the  purpose  of  sending  for  a  physician.  But  the  old 
man  sprang,  tottered  after  him,  and  clasped  him  around, 
staggered  back,  exclaiming — "  You  shall  not !  I'll  have 
no  witnesses.  Oh!  you're  a  lawyer!" 

Mark  Sutherland  disengaged  himself,  sat  his  uncle 
down  in  a  chair,  and  stood  for  a  moment  undecided  how 


FORGERY.  337 

to  proceed — vague  suspicions  crossing  his  mind  for 
the  first  time,  as  he  heard  his  wild  words,  and  recol- 
lected Mr.  Boiling's  ominous  doubts. 

"Yes,  look!"  exclaimed/the  distracted  culprit,  who 
had  quite  lost  his  self-possession,  "look I  and  consider 
what  you  will  do !  It  will  be  a  fine  revenge,  for  old 
and  new,  to  cast  the  white-haired  man  into  a  State- 
prison,  won't  it?  Now,  hark  ye!  No  dishonour  can 
crush  me  that  will  not  touch  you!  Remember  that!" 

Mark  Sutherland  went  to  a  sideboard,  poured  out  a 
glass  of  water,  and  brought  it  to  his  uncle,  who  took 
it  in  his  trembling  hand  and  quaffed  it  off,  and  returned 
the  empty  glass,  all  mechanically,  and  without  a  word 
of  acknowledgment.  Mark  Sutherland  put  down  the 
glass,  and  then  returned  and  took  his  seat  beside  the 
guilty  man,  saying  calmly,  and  with  some  reserve — 

"Now,  sir,  it  were  best  for  all  parties  concerned,  that 
you  should  put  me  in  possession  of  the  facts  of  this 
case." 

"And  criminate  myself!  Ha!  that's  a  lawyer's  trick, 
to  lead  me  into  such  a  folly.  But  I'm  cool,  I'm  col- 
lected, I'm  not  going  to  do  it." 

"  Sir,  you  have  already  criminated  yourself." 

"  Ha !  you  wish  to  trap  me  into  doing  so,  so  that  you 
can  take  your  revenge.  It  would  be  a  tremendous 
revenge,  would  it  not  ?" 

"  Sir,  you  know  well  that  no  such  mean  spirit  of 
vengeance  will  influence  my  action  in  this  matter." 

"  Ha !  well,  it  will  be  because  it  cannot.  You  can't 
prosecute  me — you  can't  appear  against  me — because 
you  can't  disgrace  me  without  dishonouring  yoursel£ 
It  would  not  do,  you  think,  to  have  it  said  that  Judge 
Sutherland's  uncle  was  a  felon." 


338  INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

"And  why  should  not 'Judge  Sutherland's'  uncle, 
or  Judge  Anyone's  uncle,  be  called  a  felon,  if  he  is  a 
felon,  as  well  as  the  poorest  man's  uncle  alive?  Is  it 
because  the  former  has  more  power,  more  means,  more 
friends,  fewer  wants,  fewer  temptations,  than  the  latter? 
I  think  not.  No,  sir !  family  pride  will  no  more  restrain 
my  action,  than  revenge  will  impel  it.  Family  con- 
siderations, personal  pride,  never  have  influenced  my 
conduct,  and  never  will  do  so.  No,  sir;  I  conform 
my  life  to  a  purer  rule  of  action.  In  every  question 
there  is  a  right  and  a  wrong.  I  obey  the  right.  Had 
I  a  brother  or  a  son  guilty  of  felony,  and  it  became 
my  duty  to  bear  witness  against  either,  I  should  do  it, 
though  my  testimony  consigned  the  culprit  to  death. 
No,  sir ;  if  we  refrain  from  prosecution,  it  will  be  for 
a  reason  much  holier  than  pride.  It  will  be  from  a 
motive  that  would  also  actuate  us  in  sparing  the  veriest 
forsaken  wretch  alive  I" 

"^  Clement  Sutherland  had  sat  with  his  elbows  on  the 
table,  and  his  head  bowed  in  his  hands,  his  grey  hair 
dishevelled,  and  his  thin,  withered  features  whitened 
and  drawn  in  as  by  internal  agony.  But  now  he  bursts 
forth  in  a  fit  of  fury,  as  ungovernable  as  it  was  unrea- 
sonable and  impotent.  Mark  Sutherland  stood  quietly 
by,  and  let  his  rage  exhaust  itself.  Then,  when  the 
guilty  man  was  calm  from  prostration,  his  nephew 
spoke  to  him  coolly,  wisely,  kindly — making  him  un- 
derstand and  feel  that  his  detection  was  inevitable,  un- 
less he  put  him  in  possession  of  all  the  facts,  to  prepare 
him  to  meet  knowingly  the  exigencies  of  the  case.  It 
was  very  difficult  to  influence  the  wretched  man,  who, 
having  parted  with  his  own  faith,  was  unable  to  rest 
on  the  good  faith  of  any  other.  And  it  was  only  after 


FORGERY.  339 

arguing  and  persuading  him  all  the  afternoon  and  even- 
ing, that  late  at  night  he  won  from  the  guilty  man.  a 
full  account  of  the  circumstances. 

"  And  now,  what  do  you  purpose  to  do  ?"  was  his 
trembling  question,  when  he  had  confessed  all. 

"  I  shall  return  home  to-morrow,  and  take  counsel 
with  Rosalie." 

"  Take  counsel  with  her  /"  exclaimed  the  old  man, 
in  alarm. 

"  Be  at  ease,  sir.  She  has  a  voice  in  this  matter 
Nay,  she  has — it  must  be — it  is  her  name  that  has 
been  used — her  property  that  is  lost.  And  if  it  were 
not — if  it  were  my  own  exclusive  affair,  still  I  should 
consult  her  before  taking  any  important  step  1" 

"  What  will  become  of  us  ? — of  India  ?  My  child  I 
my  child!  that  your  high  head  should  be  bowed 
with  shame  1"  cried  the  wretched  man,  in  a  voice  of 
anguish. 

"  Reassure  yourself,  sir,  I  beg.     I  can  answer  for 
Rosalie's  noble  heart.     You  are  safe  from  all  punish- 
ment from  her.     And  now  let  us  part  at  once.     You  * 
had  better  return  to  Cashmere,  where  your  family 
must  be  anxiously  awaiting  you." 

"  And  where  will  you  stay  ?" 

"To-night  I  shall  go  on  board  the  steamer  Yic- 
tress,  which  will  leave  for  the  Upper  Mississippi  to- 
morrow." 

Suddenly  the  old  man  lifted  up  his  head,  and  showed 
a  countenance  brightened  with  hope.  Mr.  Sutherland 
stopped  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say.  He  grasped  the 
arm  of  his  nephew,  exclaiming — 

"Oh!  Mark,  I  have  it  now.  I  have  found  the 
means  by  which  family  honour  and  Rosalie's  fortune 


340  INDIA.      THE   PEARL    OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

both  may  be  saved.  Eosalie  need  not  deny  her  sig- 
nature ;  that  will  protect  me,  and  save  family  honour. 
But  the  signature  was  written  before  she  came  of  age ; 
therefore  the  deeds  are  null  and  void  and  the  usurer 
cannot  foreclose  the  mortgage,  or  recover  his  money. 
So  you  see  that  I  can — I  mean  family  honour — can  be 
saved,  and  Rosalie  lose  nothing  either." 

An  involuntary  expression  of  scorn  and  loathing 
flashed  from  Mark  Sutherland's  fine  Roman  face  for  a 
moment;  and  then,  composing  himself,  he  replied, 
coolly — 

"  No,  sir ;  if  you  are  saved,  it  must  be  at  our  own 
proper  cost  and  loss." 

And  so  they  parted. 


CHAPTER   XXYIIL 

UNCLE    BILLY. 

"  He's  had  misfortunes,  great  and  sma', 
But  aye  a  soul  abore  them  far ; 
He'll  he  a  credit  to  us  a', 
We'll  a'  be  proud  o'  Willie !"— Burnt. 

MARK  SUTHERLAND  went  on  board  the  Victress, 
and  almost  immediately  betook  himself  to  the  soli- 
tude of  the  forsaken  hurricane  deck,  there  to  walk, 
and  while  the  water  breeze  fanned  his  fevered  brow, 
to  reflect  upon  the  sinfulness,  the  danger,  of  an  un- 
governed  lust  of  gold — upon  the  crimes  to  which  it 
often  leads,  and  upon  the  felony  made  known  to  him 


CJNCLE   BILLY.  341 

that  evening.  The  orgies  of  a  noisy  party  of  card- 
players  in  the  saloon  below  occasionally  broke  upon 
his  silence ;  and  the  sweet  laughter  of  young  girls, 
walking  on  the  guards  of  the  ladies'  cabin,  was  borne 
upwards  on  the  wind.  But  the  hurricane  deck  was 
lonely,  and  there  he  paced  up  and  down,  wrapped  in 
mournful  thought,  until  the  arrival  of  a  noisy  set,  who, 
weary  of  the  heated  saloon,  sought  the  free,  fresh  air 
above,  and  disturbed  his  solitude.  Then  he  went 
below,  and  sought  his  berth. 

Early  in  the  morning  he  arose  from  a  sleepless 
couch,  to  'find  all  the  officers  and  hands  on  the  boat 
engaged  in  receiving  last  freight  and  passengers,  while 
the  engine  was  getting  up  her  steam  to  be  off.  Mark 
Sutherland  finished  his  morning  toilet,  and  went  out 
upon  the  guards,  just  as  the  boat  was  beginning  to 
move  from  the  wharf.  The  usual  crowd  of  idlers, 
porters,  and  loafers,  stood  upon  the  shore,  watching 
her  departure.  And  Mark  Sutherland  fixed  himself 
in  a  favourable  position  for  watching  the  receding 
wharf  of  what  might  be  called  his  native  village,  when 
the  figure  of  a  fat  man,  in  white  linen  jacket  and 
trousers,  with  his  light  hair  blowing  free  behind  his 
rosy  face,  waving  a  straw  hat,  came  running  des- 
perately towards  the  wharf.  The  boat  arrested  her 
motions,  the  plank  was  thrown  out,  and  Uncle  Billy 
followed  by  a  man  with  his  trunk  and  portmanteau, 
stepped  on  board.  Panting  and  blowing,  and  wiping 
his  face,  he  hastened  up  to  Mr.  Sutherland,  exclaim- 
ing, "My  dear  boy!  I  liked  to  have  missed  you! 
Near  as  possible !  Wouldn't  have  lost  you  for  the 
world,  my  dearest  lad !  Stick  to  you  as  long  as  I  live, 
Mark,  for  your  dear  mother,  my  sister's  sake !  Whew  I 


342  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

Whsw-ewf  what  a  chase  I've  had  I  Only  heard  this 
morning,  from  Clement,  that  you  were  going  by  the 
Victress  1  Running  ain't  good  for  me.  Dangerous  I" 
And  so,  talking  and  shaking  his  nephew's  hand,  and 
wiping  his  own  rosy  face,  and  blowing  and  panting, 
Mr.  Boiling  at  last  sat  down,  and  began  to  fan  him- 
self with  his  broad-brimmed  straw  hat. 

Mark  Sutherland  received  his  relative's  demonstra- 
tions of  attachment  as  best  he  might ;  he  welcomed 
him,  and  went  to  the  captain's  office  to  see  if  he  could 
secure  a  state-room  for  his  enforced  travelling  com- 
panion; and  by  the  time  he  had  successfully  accom- 
plished his  errand,  the  passengers  were  summoned 
to  the  breakfast-table,  and  the  boat  had  cleared 
the  wharf  and  was  well  under  way  up  the  Missis- 
sippi. 

It  was  a  slow  voyage  up  the  river,  and  on  the  after- 
noon of  the  twelfth  day  the  steamer  arrived  at  the 
wharf  of  Shelton.  Mark  Sutherland  wished,  if  pos- 
sible, to  get  rid  of  his  troublesome  travelling  com- 
panion for  a  few  hours,  while  he  could  go  home 
quietly,  and  have  an  uninterrupted  meeting  and  talk 
with  his  dear  Rosalie. 

So,  leaving  all  their  baggage  in  the  care  of  the 
clerk  of  the  boat,  Mark  drew  Uncle  Billy's  fat  arm 
within  his  own,  and  conducted  him  to  Col.  Gar- 
ner's hotel,  to  a  private  parlour,  containing  a  com- 
fortable lounge  and  easy  chair.  Here  he  ordered 
a  luncheon  of  cold  ham,  fowl,  sardines,  pickled 
oysters,  and  next  all  the  late  newspapers  the  house 
could  muster;  and  having  seen  them  all  arranged 
upon  the  table,  to  which  the  easy  chair  was  drawn 
up,  and  while  Uncle  Billy  stretched  his  lazy  length 


UNCLE   BILLY. 

upon  the  lounge,  Mr.  Sutherland  turned  to  Mr.  Boi- 
ling, and  said — 

"And  now,  Uncle  Billy,  can  you  excuse  me,  and 
make  yourself  comfortable,  while  I  run  down  to 
Rosalie  and  prepare  her  for  your  arrival?" 

"Eh?  Yes;  all  right!  Certainly!  The  child  always 
was  fond  of  me,  and  it  might  give  her  too  much  of  a 
shock  to  meet  me  suddenly,  after  so  long  a  separa- 
tion! Very  considerate  of  you,  Mark,  certainly — 
very !" 

"  Is  there  anything  else  I  can  order  for  you  before 
I  go?" 

"  Eh  ?  No,  nothing ;  I  am  much  obliged  to  you, 
nephew." 

"  Well,  if  you  should  think  of  anything  after  I  am 
gone,  you  can  ring  for  it,  you  know." 

"Yes— yes." 

"  Good  afternoon  for  the  present,  I  will  come  and 
fetch  you  at  tea-time." 

"Yes;  very  well,  I  shall  be  ready.  Hark  ye,  Mark! 
break  my  arrival  to  your  wife  cautiously,  do  you  hear? 
Joy  kills  sometimes." 

"  I  shall  be  careful  not  to  endanger  Rosalie's  life," 
said  Mark,  smiling  as  he  left  the  room. 

No  sooner  had  the  door  closed  behind  his  nephew, 
than,  with  a  sigh  of  profound  satisfaction,  Uncle 
Billy  arose  and  sat  down  in  the  easy  chair,  and  drew 
the  table  towards  him.  In  addition  to  everything 
else  on  the  table,  there  was  a  tall,  black  bottle,  which 
Mr.  Boiling  took  up,  uncorked,  and  put  to  his  nose 
with  a  look  of  delightful  anticipation.  He  sat  it 
down  suddenly,  with  an  expression  of  intense  dis- 
gust— 


344  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

"Tomato  catsup,  by  all  that  is  destestable,  and 
I  thought  it  was  port  wine  I  Here,  waiter ! — (where 
the  devil  is  the  bell-rope  ?)  Waiter,  I  say  1" 

A  man  in  a  linen  apron  put  his  head  in  at  the 
door — 

"Did  you  call,  sir?" 

"  Yes ;  bring  me  a  bottle  of  your  best  port  wine." 

The  man  withdrew,  and  after  a  while  returned  with 
a  black  bottle  of  the  villanous  drugged  compound 
which  is  sold  and  bought  as  the  best  port  wine,  and 
which  bon  vivants  like  Mr.  Boiling  imbibe  with  perfect 
faith. 

"We  will  leave  Uncle  Billy  to  the  enjoyment  of  his 
beloved  creature  comforts,  and  follow  Mark  Suther- 
land to  his  "  sweet  home." 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

FAILING    HEALTH. 

"'Tis  shadow'd  by  the  tnlip  tree — 'tis  mantled  by  the  vine; 
The  wild  plum  sheds  its  yellow  fruit  from  fragrant  thickets  nigh, 
And  flowery  prairies  from  the  door  stretch  till  they  meet  the  sky." 

Bryant. 

ON  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  embosomed  in  a  grove 
of  trees,  stood  Rose  Cottage,  the  pleasant  home  of  the 
Sutherlands.  It  was  named  partly  from  Rosalie,  and 
partly  from  her  favourite  flower — the  rose — of  which 
every  variety  had  been  collected  and  cultivated  to 
adorn  her  house  and  garden.  The  house  itself  was 


FAILING  HEALTH.  345 

simple  and  plain  in  its  structure — just  an  oblong  two- 
story  frame  building,  painted  white,  with  green 
Venetian  blinds,  and  having  four  rooms  on  each  floor, 
with  a  wide  passage  running  through  the  centre  from 
front  to  back,  and  with  an  upper  and  lower  piazza 
running  all  around  the  house. 

The  grounds  were  unpretending,  too — behind  the 
house  a  kitchen-garden  and  young  orchard ;  in  front 
and  at  the  sides  a  spacious  yard,  where  single  great 
forest  trees  were  left  standing,  with  rural  seats  fixed 
under  their  shade.  In  that  rich  and  fertile  soil  the 
favourite  rose  flourished  luxuriantly.  Eose-trees 
adorned  the  yard,  rose-bushes  hedged  the  parterres, 
rose-vines  shaded  the  arbours  and  climbed  the  pillars 
of  the  piazza  and  gracefully  festooned  the  eaves,  and 
the  fragrance  of  roses  filled  the  air.  What  gave  a 
tenderer  interest  to  these  beautiful  roses  was,  that  they 
were  all  love- offerings  from  the  young  girls  and  chil- 
dren to  their  beautiful  and  beloved  teacher. 

Mark  Sutherland  approached  this  sweet  home. 
Every  care  and  sorrow  dropped  from  his  spirit  as  ha 
opened  the  little  wicket-gate  that  separated  his  garden 
of  Eden  from  the  wilderness.  He  walked  on  through 
the  shaded  yard  to  the  house,  and  went  up  to  the 
piazza,  and  through  the  front  door  into  the  hall,  or 
passage.  Here  two  doors,  opposite  each  other  to  the 
right  and  left,  opened — one  into  their  parlour  and 
dining-room,  and  the  other  into  the  school  and  class- 
room. He  paused  a  moment,  and  listened,  with  a 
smile,  as  the  low  murmur  of  girls'  voices  revealed  to 
him  that  the  school  was  not  yet  dismissed. 

He  opened  the  door  and  entered. 

Surely,  there  never  was  a  school-room  so  pleasant 


346  INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

as  this,  from  which  the  aspect  of  dullness,  weariness, 
restraint,  and  irksomeness,  was  so  completely  banished, 
as  there  certainly  never  was  a  teacher  so  lovely  and 
so  beloved.  It  was  a  spacious,  airy  apartment,  lighted 
with  many  windows,  shaded  at  a  little  distance  by  the 
rose- wreathed  pillars  and  eaves  of  the  piazza.  The 
furniture  was  of  bright  cherry,  in  cheerful  contrast  to 
the  white  walls  and  floor.  Maps  and  pictures,  of  rare 
beauty  and  appropriateness,  decorated  the  walls,  and 
shells  and  minerals  and  mosses  adorned  the  tables. 

The  young  girls  and  children — some  engaged  in 
study,  some  in  pencil-drawing  or  penmanship,  and 
some  in  needlework — looked  cheery  and  very  much 
at  their  ease.  They  left  their  seats,  and  spoke  to  each 
other  without  infringing  any  rule,  but  all  was  done 
quietly  and  gracefully,  as  under  the  influence  of  a 
beloved  mistress,  whom  they  obeyed  with  no  forced 
eye-service,  and  whom  they  would  not  for  the  world 
distress  or  annoy. 

And  there,  at  the  upper  end  of  the  room,  on  a  plat- 
form raised  but  one  step  above  the  floor,  on  a  chair, 
at  a  table,  sat  the  young  schoolmistress — the  wife  of 
four  years'  standing — scarcely  turned  twenty-one,  and 
with  the  loveliest  and  most  delicate  face  and  form  in 
the  world,  yet  by  the  power  of  her  soul's  strength  and 
beauty  keeping  in  willing  subjection  a  miscellaneous 
crowd  of  girls,  of  all  ages,  sizes,  and  tempers.  There 
she  sat,  with  her  sweet,  fair  face,  and  pale,  golden, 
curly  hair,  and  white  muslin  wrapper — looking  the 
fairest  girl  among  them  all.  When  Mark  entered,  the 
quiet  light  of  joy  dawned  in  her  eyes,  and  she  arose 
and  came  softly  down  to  meet  him.  There  was  a 


FAILING   HEALTH.  347 

subdued  gladness  in  the  manner  of  both,  as  they 
clasped  hands. 

"  My  dearest  Eose,  you  are  so  much  better  than 
when  I  went  away,''  said  Mark,  looking  fondly  at  her, 
as  the  bloom  deepened  on  her  cheeks. 

" I  am  better — I  am  well"  replied  Eosalie,  smiling 
round  upon  her  girls,  several  of  whom  left  their  seats, 
and  came  fluttering  forward  to  welcome  Mr.  Suther- 
land with  saucy  pleasure.  He  had  a  merry  jest  or  a 
loving  word  for  each  affectionate  child,  but  soon  sent 
them  gaily  back  to  their  places,  as  the  hour  of  dis- 
missal had  come.  And  Eosalie,  accompanied  by  Mark, 
went  back  to  her  seat,  and  called  the  school  to  order, 
and  gave  out  and  led  the  evening  hymn  that  closed 
their  exercises. 

When  the  song  was  finished,  and  the  girls  all  gone, 
Mark  Sutherland  turned  to  his  young  wife,  and  with 
a  smile  of  joy  drew  her  to  his  bosom.  But  in  a  mo- 
ment a  shade  of  anxiety  clouded  his  face ;  and,  still 
clasping  her  close  to  his  bosom,  he  asked — 

"Eose,  what  makes  your  heart  throb  so  vio- 
lently?" 

Eosalie  raised  her  eyes  to  his  face,  and  he  noticed 
that  a  sorrowful  shade  dimmed  their  lustre  for  an 
instant,  but  vanished  before  the  smile  with  which  she 
replied — 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you." 

"But  your  heart  knocks  so  forcibly?" 

"  Come  in  the  parlour,  and  let's  sit  down  there  and 
talk — I  have  so  many  things  to  tell  you,  and  to  ask 
you  about,"  said  Eosalie,  evading  his  remarks;  and 
gently  withdrawing  herself,  she  led  the  way  into  the 


348  INDIA.      THE   PEARlf  OF  'PEARL   RIVER. 

parlour,  and  wheeled  up  an  easy  chair,  and  begged 
him  to  "  sit  down  and  make  himself  at  home." 

But,  first,  he  made  her  recline  upon  the  lounge 
and  rest,  while  he  drew  the  chair  up  and  sat  by  her 
side. 

And  there  she  lay,  with  her  sweet,  spiritual  face, 
white  as  her  drapery,  except  where  all  the  colour  had 
concentrated  in  a  circumscribed  fiery  spot  in  either 
cheek.  She  was  breathing  short,  yet  smiling  gaily  at 
her  own  difficulty. 

He  sat  watching  her,  and  trying  to  feel  and  to  look 
happy,  yet  thinking  that  after  all  she  was  not  so  well 
as  when  he  had  left  her — perceiving  that  he  had  mis- 
taken fever  heat  for  healthful  bloom.  lie  sat,  trying 
to  smile  and  talk  cheerfully,  yet  with  a  dull,  aching 
prophecy  in  his  heart.  It  was  in  vain  to  stifle  the 
rising  anxiety.  It  found  some  vent  in  these  words : 

"  My  love,  you  work  too  hard ;  that  school  is  hurt- 
ing your  health  ?" 

"No,  dear  Mark,  believe  me,  it  is  not — it  keeps 
me  up." 

"  It  exhausts,  it  prostrates  you,  my  love — indeed,  it 
must  be  closed — that  school  must  be  closed  1" 

By  way  of  nimbly  proving  how  strong  she  was,  she 
arose  to  a  sitting  posture,  arranged  her  hair  by  run- 
ning her  slender  fingers  through  the  ringlets,  ad- 
justed her  dress,  and  sat  straight  up,  while  she 
answered — 

"  Not  for  the  world  would  I  close  that  school,  dear 
Mark.  I  have  no  children,  and  that  school  is  my 
field  of  almost  unbounded  usefulness.  Those  girls 
are  my  children ;  and  not  only  must  I  cultivate  their 
intellects,  but  in  every  young,  receptive  heart  I  must 


FAILING  HEALTH.  349 

sow  good  seed,  that  will  bring  forth  fruit  long  after  I 

am  in" 

She  paused  suddenly,  in  embarrassment. 
"What  do  you  mean,  Eosalie?"  he  asked,  in  dis- 
tress. 

"Dearest  Mark,"  she  said,  slightly  evading  a  direct 
reply,  "  dearest  Mark,  a  faithful  teacher,  called  to  the 
work,  may  not  abandon  her  post,  indeed ;  for  oh  I  see 
how  mighty  the  influence  of  a  teacher  may  be,  and 
how  long  it  may  last — the  good  principles  instilled 
into  a  little  girl's  tender  heart  do  not  conclude  their 
work  with  her  alone,  but  influence  her  children,  and 
her  children's  children,  and  all  who  come  within  her 
sphere  and  in  theirs.  Consider  how  mighty  an  in- 
strument of  good  is  set  in  motion  by  teaching  aright 
one  little  child,  and  I  faithfully  try  to  teach  forty.  So, 
dearest  Mark,  hinder  me  not ;  but  while  I  live,  let  me 
sow  the  good  seed,  that  it  may  bring  forth  good  fruit 
when  I  am — I  mean  when  all  this  generation  shall 
have  passed  away." 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  he  held  her  hand 
fondly,  and  seemed  buried  in  thought. 

"Dearest  Mark,  you  look  so  careworn — have  you 
had  much  trouble  in  settling  our  business  ?" 

He  raised  his  head,  and  looked  at  her  sweet,  waii 
face.  He  could  not,  for  his  life,  tell  anything  to 
-distress  her  then;  so  he  answered  that  Mr.  Clement 
Sutherland  was  not  yet  prepared  to  give  an  account 
of  his  trust,  but  that  all  would  be  arranged  before  the 
close  of  the  month. 

Eosalie  arose,  and  putting  her  hands  upon  his 
shoulders,  pressed  a  kiss  upon  his  forehead,  and  was 
sliding  away. 


350     IXDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  Mark,  detaining 
her. 

"  To  order  tea,  of  course,"  she  answered. 

Suddenly  Mr.  Sutherland  remembered  Uncle  Billy. 

"Stop,  Rosalie,"  he  said,  "I  have  got  something  to 
tell  you." 

And  Eosalie  sat  down  again ;  and  Mark,  in  some 
painful  and  ludicrous  embarrassment,  related  his 
meeting  with  Mr.  Boiling,  and  the  manner  in  which 
that  impartial,  disinterested  gentleman  had  thrust 
himself  upon  him  for  life. 

"And  where  have  you  left  him  now?"  asked 
Eosalie. 

"At  Col.  Garner's,  enjoying  himself.  Really,  my 
dearest  Rose,  I  feel  very  much  ann.oyed  that  you 
should  be  troubled  with  this  old  man,"  said  Mark 
Sutherland,  in  a  tone  of  vexation. 

"Bless  your  kind  heart,  dear  Mark,  he  will  be 
no  trouble  to  me.  I  have  not  the  shadow  of  an 
objection  to  his  coming ;  I  think  I  shall  rather  like 
to  have  him.  Uncle  Billy  always  was  rather  a 
cheerful  object  to  rne — such  a  neat,  clean,  fresh, 
dainty,  self-satisfied,  delightful  old  gentleman  I  We 
can  put  him  in  the  other  front  room  up  stairs,  you 
know !" 

"But  to  be  burdened  with  him  for  ever,  Rose! 
Just  think  of  it!  And  the  most  provoking  part 
of  it  is,  he  thinks  he  is  doing  us  a  mighty  benefit !" 

"  Well !  poor,  homeless  old  gentleman !  let  him 
think  so,  if  it  makes  him  happy.  .  Never  let  him 
feel  a  sense  of  obligation,  or  fancy  that  we  are  not 
delighted  to  ha\7e  him!  I  can  speak  truly  for 


AN   ORIGINAL.  351 

myself — I  shall  be  very  glad  to  make  the  old  man 
contented  1" 

"Oh,  yes;  he  says  you're  very  fond  of  him,  and 
begged  me  not  to  break  his  arrival  to  you  too 
abruptly,  lest  the  sudden  joy  should  be  too  much  for 
you!" 

Kosalie  laughed  outright.  Her  silvery  laughter 
\vas  very  sweet,  from  its  rarity,  and  Mark  found  it 
charming.  He  caught  her  gaily,  and  kissed  her 
cheek.  Oh,  that  burning  cheek!  it  sobered  him 
directly.  He  took  his  hat,  and  went  to  fetch  Uncle 
Billy. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

AN    ORIGINAL. 

"  He  seeth  only  what  is  fair, 

He  sippet h  only  what  is  sweet; 
He  will  laugh  at  fate  and  care, 
Leave  the  chaff  and  take  the  wheat." — Emerson. 

AND  Rosalie  passed  into  a  large,  square,  well- 
ordered  kitchen,  over  which  presided  another  Billy 
— Mrs.  Attridge's  ex-servant,  and  now  Rosalie's 
maid-of-all-work.  And  the  short  history  of  the 
transfer  of  his  services  was  this:  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Attridge,  having  no  family,  grew  lonely,  and  tired 
of  housekeeping  in  the  country.  So  they  broke 
up,  sold  their  furniture,  rented  out  their  place,  and 
came  to  Shelton,  and  took  rooms  at  Garner's  Hotel. 

So  Billy  was  out  of  a  place.     A  great  many  house- 


352     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

keepers  would  have  been  glad  to  hire  him.  But 
Billy,  like  all  invaluable  geniuses,  had  a  great  many 
eccentricities  and  difficulties  to  be  got  over.  He 
wouldn't  live  in  a  row  of  houses,  or  in  any  sort 
of  a  house  that  wasn't  a  handsome  house,  in  a 
large  space,  with  trees  round  it.  He  wouldn't 
live  in  a  family  that  had  babies,  or  hadn't  cows  and 
a  garden.  Poultry  was  also  indispensable,  and  pigs 
totally  inadmissible.  And  lastly,  he  wouldn't  live 
— no,  not  in  town  or  country,  neither  for  love 
nor  money,  with  anybody  who  was  not  good-look- 
ing. There — to  use  Billy's  own  words — he  set  his 
foot  down,  and  no  one  could  move  him  from  that 
position.  And  so  it  fell  out  that  Billy  would  accept 
no  place  in  Shelton,  but  continued  hanging  on  to 
the  skirts  of  his  old  master  and  mistress,  at  Garner's 
Hotel. 

But  one  day,  it  happened  that  Rosalie,  after  she 
had  dismissed  her  afternoon  school,  stood  at  her 
nice  white  kitchen  table  kneading  bread  for  supper, 
when  a  shadow  darkened  the  door,  and  the  sound 
of  something  dumped  suddenly  down  upon  the  floor, 
caused  her  to  turn  round.  There  stood  Billy,  in 
his  pale  blue  cotton  jacket  and  trousers,  and  clean 
linen  apron  and  straw  hat,  with  a  great  bundle  at 
his  back,  and  a  heavy  trunk  at  his  feet.  Down  he 
dropped  the  bundle  upon  the  trunk,  and  heaving  a 
deep  sigh  of  relief,  said — 

"  I'm  been  looking  for  you  to  send  arter  me  to  come 
and  live  'long  o'  you.  Why  ain't  you  sent  afore  this? 
Don't  like  to  be  a-losing  so  much  time." 

"  Why,  Billy,  I  had  no  idea  you  wished  to  come 
and  live  with  us,"  returned  Rose,  in  surprise. 


AN   ORIGINAL.  353 

"  Well,  you  might  a-known  it,  then !  You  always 
knowed  I  liked  you  and  him." 

"I  thought  you  refused  to.  go  out  to  service?" 

" I  'fused  all  them  (here"  said  Billy,  chucking  his 
thumb  contemptuously  over  his  shoulder,  pointing  in 
the  direction  of  the  village — "think  I'm  agoin'  to  live 
in  a  bake-oven,  like  them  there  red  brick  houses  ?" 

"  But  you  might  have  gone  to  the  country." 

"  Yes,  but  you  know  most  all  on  'em  were  so  ill- 
looking — I  mean  the  people,  and  for  that  matter  the 
houses  too — and  then  they  kept  pigs,  as  made  an 
onpleasant  fragrance,  and  childun,  as  made  werry  on- 
pleasant  noises.  And  some  places,  the  missus  was 
either  ugly  in  her  temper,  or  her  face,  or  in  both, 
which  is  dreadful.  And  in  other  places  the  master 
was  always  a-interfering  with  the  dinner  or  the  dish- 
cloths, in  a  very  misbecoming  manner.  Some  on  'em 
were  not  nice  in  their  ways ;  and  what  'couragement 
would  it  be  to  me  to  put  on  a  clean  apron  every  day, 
with  a  nice  stiff  crease  ironed  down  in  the  middle  of 
it,  to  sarve  people  as  wa'n't  clean  themselves  ?  So  the 
long  and  the  short  of  it  is,  ma'am,  that  I'm  come  to 
live  'long  o'  you." 

-Now,  Rosalie  was  so  gentle-hearted  that  she  did 
not  speak  her  thought,  and  say — "But  we  did  not 
send  for  you,  Billy."  Yet,  nevertheless,  Billy  guessed 
it,  for  he  answered  as  if  she  had  spoken — 

"  Well,  what  o'  that  ?  Here  I  am.  And  here's  my 
trunk  and  bundle.  I  paid  a  man  twenty-five  cents  to 
help  me  to  bring  them  over.  I  reckon  I  can  stay,  if  I 
'gree  to  stay  on  your  own  terms,"  said  Billy,  betray- 
ing piteous  anxiety  nevertheless. 

Gentle  and  truthful  Eosalie  hastened  to  set  his  fears 
22 


354  INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF   PEARL   RTVKK. 

at  rest.  "  Indeed,  Billy,  we  shall  be  delighted  to  have 
you.  You  will  be  an  invaluable  acquisition  to  us.  I 
am  only  very  much  surprised  that  you  should  have 
given  us  the  preference." 

A  bright,  glad  smile  broke  over  honest  Billy's  face. 
"  Why,  you  see,  ma'am,  I  don't  care  how  much  work 
I  have  to  do — I  does  it  cheerful.  I  don't  care  how 
little  wages  I  gets — I  takes  it — contented.  But  I  ain't 
got  but  one  life  to  live  on  this  yeth,  and  while  I  do 
live,  I  must  live  in  a  pretty  place,  long  o'  pretty 
people.  Anything  else  smothers  of  me — it  stifles  of 
me — it  gives  me  the — I  mean  it  makes  my  wittles 
disagree  with  me."  And,  so  saying,  Billy  shouldered 
his  bundle  and  trunk,  and  took  them  up  into  the  loft 
over  the  kitchen,  as  if  he  had  slept  there  all  his  life, 
and  knew  the  way.  And  then  he  came  down,  and 
took  two  big  buckets  to  go  to  the  well.  And  so, 
without  more  ado,  Billy  was  inaugurated  in  his  new 
place  and  duties.  And  a  most  "  invaluable  acquisi- 
tion" he  really  proved.  Billy  had  now  been  living 
several  months  with  the  Sutherlands. 

To  return :  Rosalie  went  into  the  kitchen,  to  give 
directions  to  Billy  about  the  supper.  She  found  him 
sitting  down,  stirring  the  batter  for  the  pancakes. 
She  told  him  she  expected  a  stranger  to  tea,  and  that 
he  must  make  coffee  also,  and  dress  two  prairie  fowls, 
and  broil  some  ham.  And  next  she  went  into  her 
dining-room  and  set  her  table,  adorning  it  with  her 
finest  damask  table-cloth,  and  best  china,  and  placing 
upon  it  her  nicest  cakes  and  preserves.  She  was  so 
engaged  when  Mr.  Sutherland  returned,  bringing  in 
Uncle  Billy. 

I  cannot  do  anything  like  justice  to  the  vociferous 


AN   ORIGINAL. 

joy  with  which  Mr.  Boiling  rushed  upon  his  dear 
niece,  as  he  called  Eosalie.  She  received  him  with  an 
affectionate  welcome. 

"  I  am  come  to  stay  with  you  as  long  as  I  possibly 
can,  my  dear.  Although  a  man  like  me  has  a  great 
many  conflicting  claims  upon  his  time  and  presence, 
of  course,  nevertheless  I  intend  to  stay  with  you  as 
long  as  possible." 

Eosalie  assured  him  that  the  longer  he  stayed  the 
better  she  should  be  pleased.  And  then,  as  Billy  had 
put  supper  on  the  table,  she  invited  him  in  to  that 
meal.  And  Mr.  Boiling  sat  down  and  enjoyed  it  with 
as  much  gusto  as  if  he  had  not  partaken  of  a  heavy 
luncheon  at  Garner's.  When  supper  was  over,  and 
Mr.  Boiling  had  been  invited  by  Mark  to  take  a  stroll 
around  the  premises,  Billy  entered,  to  clear  off  the 
table,  and,  pointing  with  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder, 
he  asked — 

"Who  is  yon  fat,  puffed-up  fellow  in  the  rosy  face 
and  white  jacket  and  trousers  ?" 

"  He  is  my  husband's  uncle,  and  you  must  speak 
of  him  more  respectfully." 

"That's  'cordin'  as  it  maybe,"  said  Billy,  as  he 
moved  off  under  the  weight  of  the  laden  tea-tray. 

Rosalie's  benevolent  heart  was  so  gratified  at  having 
some  one  else  to  be  good  to,  and  Mark  was  so  pleased 
to  see  her  satisfaction,  that  he  became  quite  reconciled 
to  the  intruder. 

But  Billy  was  not  to  be  mollified.  When  Mr.  Boi- 
ling had  been  domesticated  a  week  in  the  house,  one 
morning  Billy  bounced  suddenly  in  upon  Rosalie,  as 
she  stood  arranging  the  breakfast-table,  and  asked — 

"How  long  is  your  uncle-in-law  going  to  stay  here  ?" 


856     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

"  I  do  not  know,  Billy ;  probably  all  his  life." 

"  Oli !  he  is !  Well,  I  tell  you,  one  of  us  two's  got 
to  leave !" 

"  Just  as  you  please,  Billy.  You  know,  of  course, 
we  can't  turn  out  a  guest  to  gratify  you." 

"  Well,  I  give  you  warning — that's  all !"  and  Billy 
bounced  out  in  high  dudgeon.  But  presently  he  came 
back  again. 

"  Look  here,  ma'am ;  I  don't  want  to  be  onreason- 
able,  but  just  consider  what  a  difference  it  makes  in 
my  washing  and  ironing.  Look  here !  every  day  your 
uncle-in-law  puts  on  a  spic  span  clean  suit,  all  out ! 
every  day,  clean  jacket,  clean  trousers,  clean  shirt, 
clean  what-you-call-  'ems,  and  clean  cravat,  and  pocket- 
handkerchiefs,  and  clean  socks.  Now  count.  There's 
seven  pieces  every  day,  and  seven  days  in  the  week ; 
now,  how  much  is  seven  sevens  ?  You're  a  schollard." 

"  Forty-nine  1" 

"  Well,  there's  forty-nine  pieces  of  clothing,  to  say 
nothing  of  four  sheets  and  two  bolster  slips,  and  two 
pillow  slips,  and  fourteen  towels,  and  table  napkins,  I 
have  extra  washing  and  ironing  for  him  every  week. 
Now  I'm  going  to  count,  and  see  how  much  it  all 
'mounts  to — ninety-two  pieces!  Ninety-two  pieces 
extra  washing  and  ironing  I  have  to  do,  all  along  of 
your  pet  uncle-in-law !  Now,  you  know  I  can't  stand 
that !  No  reasonable  'oman  would  want  me  to  stand 
it  I"  said  Billy,  appealingly. 

"No,  of  course  not,"  said  Eose,  thoughtfully. 

"  So  onreasonable  in  any  uncle-in-law  to  act  so." 

"  You  must  excuse  our  visitor,  Billy.  He  has  been 
nsed  to  the  convenience  of  a  large  plantation  laundry." 

"  Well,  I  think  he  ought  to  staid  there." 


AN   ORIGINAL.  357 

"  We  will  put  out  Mr.  Boiling's  washing." 

"  And  put  yourself  to  an  extra  'spense,  and  not  have 
clothes  half  done  ?  No,  I  can't  'pose  on  you  that  way, 
neither.  "Well,  I'll  not  give  warning. yet  awhile  I  I'll 
see  how  long  I  can  stand  it !"  And  Billy  left  the 
room,  and  took  more  pains  to  please  his  gentle  mistress 
that  day  than  he  ever  did  before. 

There  was  no  love  lost  on  Mr.  Boiling's  side  either, 
and — "  Insolent  fellow  1"  and  "  Is  he  an  idiot  ?"  and 
"  You  all  spoil  that  fellow  of  yours,  Mark !"  fell  often 
from  his  lips,  and  sometimes  in  honest  Billy's  hearing. 
And  one  day,  while  the  family  were  all  gathered  round 
the  dinner-table,  Mr.  Boiling  said  to  his  niece  and 
nephew — "  My  dear  children,  I  must  request  you  to 
drop  the  name  of  Uncle  Billy,  and  substitute  Uncle 
William,  when  you  address  me.  There  are  two  of 
that  name  in  this  house,  and  if  you  call  me  Uncle 
Billy,  strangers  might  confound  me  in  some  way  with 
Billy  Bumpkin  in  the  kitchen  there,  which  would  not 
be  complimentary." 

Kosalie  afterwards  thought  that  her  factotum  must 
have  heard  these  offensive  remarks;  for  the  next 
evening,  as  she  entered  the  kitchen,  to  order  supper, 
he  approached  her  respectfully,  and  said — 

"Mrs.  Sutherland,  ma'am,  if  you  please,  ma'am,  I 
would  be  thankful  if  you'd  be  so  good  as  to  call  me 
"William,  which  is  the  name  given  me  by  my  sponsors 
in  baptism,  and  not  'Billy,'  for  fear  people  might  get 
me  jumbled  up  in  their  minds  along  o'  that  fat,  lazy 
man,  in  white  teeth  and  linen,  which  would  lose  me 
my  good  character,  and  be  very  onpleasant  to  my 
friends." 


358  INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF  PEAEL  RIVER. 

CHAPTEK   XXXI. 

MAGNANIMITY. 

"Though  with  my  high  wrongs  I  am  struck  to  the  quick, 
Yet  with  my  nobler  reason  'gainst  my  anger 
Do  I  take  part.     The  better  action  is 
In  patience  than  in  vengeance." — Shalcspeare. 

MARK  SUTHERLAND  had  been  home  eight  days 
before  he  broke  to  Rosalie  the  sad  news  of  his  uncle's 
betrayal  of  his  trust,  and  her  own  loss  of  fortune. 

Rosalie  heard  it  with  sorrow  and  amazement.  She 
replied  by  not  one  word,  but  dropped  her  head  upon 
her  hands,  and  remained  silent  so  long  that  her  hus- 
band became  anxious  and  alarmed.  In  truth,  it  was 
a  most  bitter  disappointment  to  the  young  wife — she 
had  looked  forward  to  coming  of  age,  and  coming 
into  possession  of  her  fortune,  with  so  much  im- 
patience, with  such  bright  anticipations,  not  for  her- 
self, but  for  her  husband's  sake.  It  would  have 
placed  them  in  so  much  more  favourable  circum- 
stances. It  would  have  relaxed  the  tight  strain  of 
office  work  from  the  overtasked,  weary  lawyer,  and 
left  him  more  leisure  for  the  study  of  the  higher  and 
more  attractive  and  more  honourable  branches  of  his 
dry  profession.  It  would  have  afforded  him  means 
and  leisure  for  engaging  actively  in  political  life,  and 
never  was  the  country  more  in  need  of  honest  men 
"to  the  fore."  It  would  have  enabled  him  to  assist 
largely  in  the  public  improvements  of  the  growing 
city.  Nay,  what  good  might  they  not  have  done 


MAGNANIMITY.  359 

with  the  large  fortune  that  was  lost  ?  Indeed,  it  was 
a  sudden,  stunning  blow  to  Rosalie ;  and  oh !  worse 
than  all,  was  the  thought  of  him  whose  guilty  hand 
had  dealt  that  blow.  She  sat  so  long  overwhelmed 
by  the  shock,  that  her  husband — Heaven  forgive 
him! — misunderstood  her  silence  and  stillness,  and 
misconstrued  her  noble  heart.  He  said — 

"  Eosalie,  my  love,  look  up  I  This  loss  of  fortune, 
which  you  take  so  much  to  heart,  is  not  inevitable, 
irrecoverable.  Disclaim  the  signature,  expose  the 
forgery"— 

She  raised  her  head,  and  looked  up  at  him,  with 
wonder  in  her  mild,  mournful  eyes. 

"And  what  then?" 

"  Your  estate  cannot  then  be  touched  by  the  forged 
mortgage."  ••'-* 

"  And  the  man  who  confidingly  loaned  the  money 
on  the  mortgage  ?" 

"  Will  lose  forty  thousand  dollars." 

"And  Clement  Sutherland?" 

"May  go  to  the  State's  prison  for  ten  years." 

She  suddenly  dropped  her  head  upon  her  hands, 
and  shuddered  through  all  her  frame,  and  remained 
silent  for  another  while.  And  then  she  rose  up  and 
threw  herself  in  his  arms,  and  clasped  him  around  the 
neck,  saying — 

"We  must  lose  it,  dear  Mark;  we  must  lose  it!  Oh! 
I  am  so  sorry  for  you!" 

"  My  poor  Eose,  I  knew  what  your  decision  would 
be ;  I  told  the  wretched  man  so.  But,  my  dearest,  it 
is  proper  that  I  should  set  the  matter  before  you  in 
its  true  light.  Should  you  fail  to  expose  the  forged 
mortgage,  you  will  not  only  lose  the  sum  of  forty 


360  IWDIA.      THfc   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

thousand  dollars,  which  was  raised  on  your  planta- 
tion, bat,  by  the  foreclosure  of  the  mortgage,  and  the 
peremptory  sale  of  the  plantation,  the  property  will 
be  sacrificed  at  about  a  fourth  of  its  real  value,  and 
you  will  lose  all,  my  poor  Rosalie." 

"I  do  suppose  so.  Well,  well;  let  all  go — all,  but 
peace  of  mind ;  for,  my  dearest  Mark,  could  you  or  I 
enjoy  peace  of  mind — could  we  take  pleasure  in  our 
morning  ramble,  or  our  evening  fireside — could  we 
take  comfort  in  anything,  dearest  Mark,  if  a  deliberate 
deed  of  ours  had  consigned  a  fellow-creature — an 
old,  gray-headed  man — to  a  prison?  Oh,  never  let  it 
be  dreamed  of,  Mark." 

"  That  is  a  woman's  thought !  Men  would  deem  it 
a  stern  duty  to  prosecute  the  criminal." 

"And  do  you?" 

"I  should  so  deem  it,  but  for  the  thought  that  this 
is  the  old  man's  first  offence,  under  great  temptation  ; 
that  it  surely  will  be  his  last ;  that  punishment,  in  his 
case,  .would  not  be  reformatory,  but  ruinous ;  that  no 
one  can  be  tempted  by  the  impunity  of  his  crime, 
since  no  one  but  ourselves  know  it." 

This  was  all  that  was  said  then.  Mr.  Boiling's 
entrance  interrupted  the  conversation ;  and  Billy  soon 
appeared  and  summoned  the  party  to  tea.  And  though 
Eosalie  presided  at  her  supper -table  that  evening  with 
a  graver  face  than  usual,  yet  by  the  next  morning  she 
had  recovered  her  self-possession  and  cheerfulness,  and 
met  them  all  at  breakfast  with  a  smile. 


RESTITUTION.  361 

CHAPTER   XXXII. 

RESTITUTION. 

"Rouse  to  some  high  and  holy  work  of  love, 

And  thou  an  angel's  happiness  shalt  know; 
Shalt  bless  the  earth  while  in  the  world  above ; 
The  work,  begun  by  thee,  shall  onward  go 
In  many  a  branching  stream  and  wider  flow." — Carlos  Wilcox. 

A  WEEK  after  this,  Mark  Sutherland  once  more  left 
home  for  a  visit  to  Mississippi,  on  business.  He 
went  to  make  a  final  settlement  with  Clement  Suther- 
land. 

The  miserable  old  man  had  fallen,  almost  into  a 
state  of  idiotcy.  He  gave  up  all  the  title  deeds 
and  various  documents  relating  to  Rosalie's  estate, 
but  could  give  little  or  no  information  concerning 
them. 

The  plantation  was  sold  under  the  mortgage,  and 
when  all  was  done,  and  the  final  accounts  cast  up, 
Mark  Sutherland  found  that  of  all  his  wife's  splendid 
fortune,  but  a  paltry  two  thousand  dollars  was  left. 

With  this,  Mark  Sutherland  prepared  to  leave  the 
neighbourhood  of  Cashmere.  But  the  day  that  he 
had  fixed  for  his  departure  was  signalized  by  a 
catastrophe  that  delayed  his  journey  for  weeks.  It 
was  the  dreadful  death  of  St.  Gerald  Ashley,  who, 
during  a  fit  of  mania-a-potu,  threw  himself  from  a 
second  story  window,  and,  striking  his  head  upon  the 
iron  trellise  below,  was  instantly  killed. 

India  was  distracted — Clement  Sutherland  helpless. 


362  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL    RIVER. 

And  Mark  remained  at  Cashmere  to  take  the  direction 
of  the  funeral. 

Three  days  from  the  death,  when  all  was  over, 
Mark  Sutherland  sought  the  presence  of  the  widow. 
He  we.nt  to  her  with  no  tender  condolements,  but 
with  ihe  words  of  bitter  truth  and  stern  rebuke 
upon  his  lips.  He  found  her  in  her  faded  and  dingy 
boudoir. 

She  arose  at  his  entrance,  and  held  out  her  hand  to 
welcome  him,  but  before  his  own  had  touched  it,  she 
sank  down  in  her  chair,  burst  into  tears,  and  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands. 

He  took  a  seat,  and  spoke : 

"  I  come  to  you,  Mrs.  Ashley,  with  no  vain  words 
of  sympathy,  which  would  seem  as  untrue  to  your 
sense  as  they  would  be  upon  my  lips.  I  come  merely 
to  set  before  you  the  stern  realities  of  your  position, 
and,  if  possible,  to  awaken  you  to  its  duties  and  re- 
sponsibilities." He  paused  a  moment,  and  she  lifted 
up  her  head  and  tearful  face,  saying, 

".Speak,  Mark!  you  will  not  find  me  haughty 
now!" 

His  lips  curled,  and  then  he  compressed  them. 

"  Your  husband  is  dead !  you  know  too  well  what 
fatal  power  brought  down  that  high,  proud  nature  to 
dishonour  and  to  death" 

"  Speak — ay,  speak — and  spare  not !  I  deserve 
it !  Most  of  all,  from  you  I"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  voice 
of  anguish. 

"  Yet,  India,  for  the  kindred  blood  in  our  mutual 
veins — for  the  regard  I  once  bore  you,  and  the  anxiety 
I  still  feel  for  you — I  would  point  out  a  way  of  re- 
covery"  


RESTITUTION.  363 

"Tell  me,  Mark!  tell  me!  Oh!  I  know  that  I 
have  been  guilty !  but  not  wantonly  guilty,  as  you 
think  I  God  knoweth  that  I  have  not !  One  mad, 
impatient  act — one  frantic  act — led  to  all  the  rest — 
ruined  all  my  life  and  his !" 

"  Yet  that  act  could  not  have  been  committed  by 
any  but  an  intensely  selfish  nature,  India.  I  speak 
not  to  indulge  in  vain  reproaches,  but  to  recall  you  to 
a  sense  of  what  you  have  already  caused  others  to 
suffer,  and  to  a  consciousness  of  what  you  owe  to 
others.  You  cannot  now  recall  the  past,  but  you  are 
very  young,  and  the  long  future  is  all  yours.  Your 
husband  is  dead,  your  father  imbecile,  and  there  is  no 
one  to  take  the  direction  of  affairs  on  this  plantation. 
You  must  rouse  yourself  from  vain  regret  and  indo- 
lent self-indulgence.  You  were  not  created  to  sit  still 
and  be  waited  upon.  You  must  engage  in  the  active 
duties  of  life.  You  must  redeem  the  past  by  the  ' 
future.  You  cannot  now  bring  back  St.  Gerald  Ash- 
ley from  his  dishonoured  grave,  and  restore  him  to 
the  brilliant  and  distinguished  position  from  which  he 
fell — but  you  can  do  somewhat  to  save  his  memory 
from  reproach.  He  died  heavily  in  debt.  You  have 
property  of  your  own.  This  seat  of  Cashmere  was 
secured  to  you  on  your  marriage,  leaving  your  father 
a  life-interest  in  it.  I  do  not,  therefore,  mean  this. 
But  you  have  other  property  in  yjur  own  right — de- 
vote it  to  the  liquidation  of  Ashley's  debts.  And 
more ;  when  you  estranged  him  from  your  bosom,  he 
sought  sympathy  and  affection  from  a  poor  girl  who 
lives  in  the  pine  forest.  I  need  not  tell  you  the  story; 
doubtless,  you  know  it.  If  you  do  not,  the  theme  is, 
unhappily,  so  common,  that  you  can  easily  imagine 


364  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

it.  What  I  mean  to  say  is  this:  this  poor,  fallen 
girl  is  unprovided  for,  desolate,  and  heart-broken ; 
and  what  I  have  to  enjoin  upon  you  is,  that  you  seek 
out  that  poor  victim  of  St.  Gerald's  sin,  and  make 
such  a  provision  for  herself  and  child  as  will  save  her 
from  despair  and  deeper  vice." 

"  And  if  I  do  all  this — if  I  spend  all  that  I  have  in 
clearing  St.  Gerald's  memory  from  debt,  and  if  I  take 
this  poor  girl  and  her  child  under  my  protection — will 
you  think  of  me  more  leniently  than  you  do  ?  Will 
you  restore  me  your  esteem  ?" 

"My  thoughts,  my  esteem,  should  be  no  motive  with 
you.  I  never  asked  you  to  do  this  for  my  sake.  I 
would  not  ask  you  to  do  it  for  heaven's  sake;  but 
simply  I  enjoin  you  to  do  it  because  it  is  right, 
whether  I  ever  remember  your  existence  again  or 
not." 

"  Oh !  Mark,  I  will  do  it.  But  you  have  not  learned 
of  Him,  that  divine,  compassionate  One,  who  would  not 
break  the  bruised  reed  or  quench  the  smoking  flax  1" 

She  raised  her  eyes  tearfully,  doubtingly,  to  his 
face. 

"  Is  there  anything  else,  Mark  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  India,  your  people ;  remember,  that  if  your 
life  should  be  cut  off  before  you  emancipate  them, 
when  your  soul  is  in  the  spiritual  world,  you  will  see 
those  whom  you  have  left  on  earth,  doomed,  with  their 
children  and  their  children's  children,  to  a  bondage, 
from  which  you  have  no  longer  the  power  and  the 
privilege  to  free  them.  Oh !  I  think,  India,  it  is  a 
fearful  responsibility,  it  is  an  awful  one,  to  die  and 
loave  them  so — to  let  the  power  of  righting  their 
wrongs  pass  away  from  you  forever." 


RESTITUTION.  365 

"To  do  all  this  it  would  require  nearly  all  my 
means — it  would  leave  me  very  poor." 

"Be  poor !  let  all  go  but  peace  of  mind."" 

She  paused  a  long  time  with  her  head  bowed  upon, 
her  hands.  At  last  she  looked  up,  and  stretched  her 
hand  out  to  him,  and  said — 

"  Mark,  is  this  all  that  you  require  of  me  ?" 

"  No ;  your  father  is  imbecile  in  mind,  and  no  longer 
capable  of  directing  even  his  most  trivial  affairs.  You 
must  apply  to  the  court  for  the  necessary  authority, 
and  take  the  control  of  his  estate.  I  will  remain  here 
a  few  weeks  longer  to  aid  you  in  obtaining  it,  and  in 
settling  up  the  accounts.  You  will  find  many  a  just 
debt  which  nevertheless  cannot  legally  be  recovered 
of  him.  You  must  pay  them  all  without  flinching, 
though  the  settlement  should  leave  you  penniless. 
You  must  right  every  wrong  that  he  has  done,  or 
others  suffered  through  htm." 

He  had  not  taken  the  hand  she  had  held  out  to  him 
a  few  minutes  before.  'It  had  fallen  unheeded  at  her 
side.  Yet  now  she  laid  it  in  his,  as  she  asked : 

"  And  if  I  do  all  this  that  you  demand,  then  will  you 
give  me  back  regard  ?" 

He  looked  disappointed  and  annoyed,  and  dropped 
her  hand,  as  he  replied : 

"  If  the  fountain  be  not  sweet,  how  shall  the  stream 
be  ?  If  the  motive  be  not  pure,  how  shall  the  act  be  ? 
India !  do  not  seek  to  make  a  trader's  bargain  with 
heaven,  or  even  with  me !  I  have  not  asked  you  to 
do  this  from  the  fear  of  any  punishment,  or  the  hope 
of  any  reward  ;  I  have  not  required  it  at  your  hands 
for  God's  sake,  least  of  all  for  mine ;  I  have  simply 
demanded  it  in  the  name  of  the  RIGHT!  India!  there 


366          INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

is  a  sentiment  expressed,  a  principle  laid  down,  or  a 
prayer  made,  by  one  of  our  poets,  which,  for  sublime 
simplicity,  transcends  everything  not  written  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  It  is  contained  in  the  lines  of  Pope's 
Universal  Prayer: 

" '  What  conscience  dictates  to  be  done, 

Or  warns  me  not  to  do — 
Thi»  teach  me  more  than  hell  to  shun, 
That  more  than  heaven  pursue.' 

There  is  no  clap-trap  there,  India;  it  is  a  sublime 
rule  1  Lay  it  to  heart  1" 

f  He  had  arisen,  and  was  about  to  leave  the  room, 
but  seeing  her  arms  crossed  upon  the  table,  and  her 
head  fallen  upon  them  in  an  attitude  of  the  most 
desolate  grief,  he  turned  back,  and  laying  his  hand 
kindly  upon  the  bowed  head,  he  said : 

"  Dear  India,  I  am  writing  to  Rosalie ;  shall  I  tell 
her  to  come  down  and  remain  with  you  for  a  few 
weeks?" 

"  No,  no  I  not  now !  I  could  not  bear  her  presence 
here ;  it  would  bring  back  the  memory  of  happier  days, 
in  too  dreadful  contrast  with  these.  Not  now !  It  is 
very  dark,  life  is  very  dark  to  me,  and  I  am  very  weak 
and  miserable  1" 

"  Dearest  India  I  I  wish  you  would  let  her  come  to 
you — would  let  her  lead  yon  to  the  only  true  source 
of  light,  and  strength,  and  joy !" 

"  I  cannot !    I  can  die  /" 

"  She  would  teach  you  to  live  ;  she  would  teach  her 
truth,  that  '  out  of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life' " 

"And  of  death!"  said  India,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

Then  he  could  only  press  her  hand,  and  leave  her. 


RESTITUTION.  367 

4 

Mark  Sutherland  remained  three  weeks  longer  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Cashmere.  During  his  stay  he 
lodged  at  the  village  of  C.,  because  he  found  it  impos- 
sible to  remain  at  Cashmere,  where  the  presence  of 
India,  in  her  grief  and  desolation,  seemed  to  scorch  his 
very  soul  like  a  spiritual  fire.  He  laboured  very  indus- 
triously, and,  with  the  assistance  of  efficient  lawyers 
and  clerks,  reduced  the  chaos  of  the  Cashmere  accounts 
into  something  like  order,  and  made  the  way  straight 
for  the  future  course  of  India  and  her  attorney.  At 
the  end  of  the  third  week  he  completed  his  work,  and 
bade  adieu  to  India  and  to  Cashmere. 

And  in  twelve  days  he  was  at  home  again.  He  was 
met  near  the  house  by  Billy,  who,  with  two  baskets  upon 
his  arms,  was  proceeding  upon  some  household  errand. 

"  Well !  and  so  it's  you,  is  it!"  observed  that  func- 
tionary, setting  down  his  baskets.  "And  so  you've 
corned  at  last !" 

"  How  is  your  mistress,  Billy  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Suth- 
erland. 

"Not  bein'  of  a  nigger,  hain't  got  no  missus.  Ef  you 
means  her,  in  yonder,  how  does  you  'spects  her  to  be 
being,  along  o'  the  school  and  the  head-eat-oriels,  and 
the  clients?  You  better  go  see  how  she  is  I  Yes, 
and  I  can  tell  you,  you  better  go  see  arter  your  paper, 
too!  or  you  won't  have  any  'scribers  left  1" 

"  Why,  how  so  ?" 

"  Humph!  how  so?  Why  Mr.  Boiling,  he  took  it 
into  his  head  as  he'd  write  a  great  head-eat-oriel  leader 
— I  could  o'done  it  as  well  myself  ef  I'd  had  anybody 
to  take  down  my  words  in  writin' — 'cause  I  used  to  be 
a  class-  leader,  or  least  way  I  used  to  belong  to  a  class. 
Well,  unbeknownest  to  Mrs.  Sutherland,  Mr.  Boiling 


368  INDIA.      THE  PEARL   OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

he  puts  on  his  spectacles  and  sits  down  to  write  a 
leader.  Lord,  it  took  him  a  week,  and  then  it  took  a 
whole  side  of  the  paper  to  print  it  1  And  when  it  come 
out — ugh  1  whew !  brikey !  my  eyes !  ef  it  didn't  put 
the  whole  town  and  county  into  a  hubbub.  Every- 
body  was  mad,  and  threatened  to  stop  their  paper — 
the  Dimocrats  said  how  you'd  turned  Whig ;  and  the 
Whigs  said  you'd  turned  Dimocrat ;  and  the  Consar- 
vatives  said  you'd  become  a  revolutioniser  and  a  'cen- 
diary ;  and  the  Free-S'ilers  said  how  you'd  betrayed 
your  pairty !  If  you  could  get  'lected  to  a  lamp-lighter's 
place  this  go,  I'm  a  Hunker !"  said  Billy,  hitching  up 
his  baskets,  and  trudging  off  towards  the  town.  Very 
much  disturbed  by  what  he  had  heard,  Mark  Suther- 
land hastened  on  homeward.  That  his  paper  was 
injured,  and  his  income  diminished,  were  compara- 
tively small  matters;  that  his  election  was  lost,  was 
not  a  very  great  one ;  but  that  public  confidence  was 
shaken,  and  his  influence  impaired,  was  a  misfortune. 
Anathematising  Mr.  Boiling's  both-side-isms',  which 
now  seemed  to  have  reached  aZZ-side-ism,  he  passed 
through  the  green  gate  leading  into  his  own  lawn. 

Rosalie,  who  had  seen  his  approach  from  afar, 
came  down  from  the  house  to  meet  him.  She  looked 
smiling  and  happy,  as  she  gave  him  both  her  hands. 
Her  cheerful  confidence  raised  his  hopes.  He  greeted 
her  fondly,  and  then  drew  her  arm  within  his  own. 
And  as  they  walked  slowly  back  to  the  house — 

"Well,  Rosalie!"  he  said,  "what  about  this  con- 
founded editorial  of  Mr.  Boiling's  ?  It  is  not  enough, 
it  seems,  that  he  should  be  a  kill-joy  in  .the  house  and 
by  the  fireside,  but  he  must  be  a  mar-plot  abroad,  and 
an  evil  genius  to  our  business!" 


RESTITUTION.  369 

Rosalie  laughed  gaily. 

"Oh,  it  is  nothing,"  she  said;  "it  was  just  one  of  Mr. 
Bothsides'  grand,  broad,  impartial  manifestoes.  It 
took  our  people,  both  friends  and  opponents,  very 
much  by  surprise,  perplexed  them  not  a  little,  and 
finally  made  them  laugh.  No  one,  for  an  instant, 
could  have  attributed  such  a  leader  to  you,  even  if 
they  had  not  been  advised  of  your  absence  and  exclu- 
sive engagement  elsewhere.  Besides,  in  to-day's  paper 
the  publisher  explains  that  the  article  was  from  the 
pen  of  a  transient  contributor.  "Why  do  you  still  look 
so  grave?  It  is  not  possible  that  poor,  daft  Billy  has 
really  alarmed  you  with  his  gossip.  Psha !  even  inno- 
cents of  Billy's  mental  calibre  could  scarcely  impute 
the  sentiments  of  that  foolish  leader  to  you.'1 

Grave!  Well  he  might  look  grave;  but  not  upon 
the  subject  of  leading  editorials,  public  sentiment, 
popular  applause,  or  popular  execration.  He  wondered 
now,  how  such  trifles  could  have  discomposed  him. 
There  she  was — the  angel  of  his  life — walking  by  his 
side,  leaning  on  his  arm,  looking  very  smiling  and 
happy,  talking  cheerily,  laughing  sweetly;  but,  oh  I 
that  face  was  so  fair  and  wan — that  pearly  forehead  so 
greatly  developed,  so  polished  from  the  tension  of  the 
skin — those  large,  shadowy  eyes,  so  deeply  luminous 
— those  crimson  flushes  in  the  hollow  cheek,  so  intense 
and  fiery — that  whole  countenance,  irradiated  with 
.such  unearthly,  supernal  light!  Why  should  he  look 
grave?  He  answered  her  question  in  some  trivial  way 
—said  he  was  not  grave,  or  something  to  that  effect, 
and  put  on  a  look  and  manner  of  ease  and  light- 
heartedness — strangers,  alas!  to  his  bosom,  from  this 
time  forward  many  a  day!  He  did  not  now  express 
23 


870  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PKAKL    KIVKK. 

any  anxiety,  or  care,  or  thought  about  her  health  1  he 
did  not  even  ask  her  how  she  was ;  for  oh !  such  feel- 
ings had  suddenly  grown  too  deep,  too  real,  too  pain- 
ful to  be  spoken.  He  did  not  support  her  steps  with 
his  usual  tenderness  and  solicitude.  A  sort  of  fierce 
jealousy  and  antagonism  to  disease  and  death  took 
possession  of  him — a  sort  of  instinct  that,  by  denying 
their  existence,  he  might  disable  their  might — a  kind 
of  feeling  that,  by  disbelieving  Eosalie's  weakness, 
and  disallowing  her  yielding  to  disease,  he  might  save 
her  from  the  power  of  death. 

With  more  refined  spiritual  insight  than  he  pos- 
sessed, Eosalie  perceived  his  thoughts  and  emotions ; 
and,  as  much  as  possible,  avoided  giving  him  pain.  She 
never  betrayed  weariness,  if  the  exercise  of  the  greatest 
fortitude  and  patience  could  conceal  her  sufferings ; 
she  never  complained,  never  even  alluded  to  her  mortal 
illness. 


IMMORTALITY.  371 

/ 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

IMMORTALITY. 

"Slowly  she  faded — day  by  day 
Her  step  grew  feebler  in  our  hall, 
And  fainter  at  each  even  fall 

Her  low  voice  died  away; 
Yet  on  her  sweet,  pale  lips  the  while 
Sat  resignation's  holy  smile. 

Calm  as  a  child  to  slumber  soothed, 
As  if  an  angel's  hand  had  smoothed 

The  still,  white  features  into  rest — 
Silent  and  cold,  without  a  breath 

To  stir  the  drapery  on  her  breast, 
She  slept,  at  last,  in  death." —  Whittier. 

IN  the  political  world,  the  next  year,  the  spirit  of 
party  ran  very  high.  A  great  moral  as  well  as 
national  problem  agitated  and  divided  the  whole 
country.  Mark  Sutherland  had  been  nominated  by 
the  Human  Rights  as  their  candidate  for  the  United 
States  Senate;  he  had  accepted  the  nomination,  and 
his  friends  laboured  perseveringly  and  anxiously  for 
his  election.  Rosalie,  as  usual,  entered  heart  and 
soul  into  all  his  toils  and  anxieties.  "And  not  for 
ourselves,  dearest  Mark,"  she  said;  "not  for  our  own 
profit  or  vainglory — for  that  were  a  poor,  mean, 
narrow  motive,  and  a  low,  selfish  aim ! — nor  for  your 
own  personal  honour,  Mark — though  to  him  who  is 
worthy  of  it,  to  him  who  appreciates  and  accepts  its 
duties  and  responsibilities  in  the  right  religions  spirit, 
a  seat  in  the  American  Senate  is  a  great  honour — 
nor  even  for  your  future  fame,  Mark — not  from  any 


372  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

or  all  these  motives  do  I  wish  and  pray  and  toil  for 
your  success — but  for  the  sake  of  the  place  and 
power  it  will  confer  upon  you  of  doing  good;  of 
speaking  appropriate  truths  before  the  proper  audi- 
ence; of  succouring  the  oppressed;  of  defending  the 
right !  For  this  I  hope,  and  trust,  and  labour,  and 
would,  if  need  were,  die  1" 

And  upon  another  occasion,  when  he  was  vexed 
and  harassed,  wearied  and  despondent,  and  inclined 
to  give  up  the  object  as  little  worthy  the  labour  or 
the  pains,  she  said  to  him,  sweetly — for  her  very  tone 
and  manner  had  a  soothing,  encouraging  spell — 

"Remember  what  Mountford  says:  'Fame  is  a  great 
thing  for  a  man ;  it  is  silence  for  him  when  he  wants 
to  speak ;  it  is  a  platform  to  preach  from,  more  authori- 
tative than  a  monarch's  throne;  it  is  an  affectionate 
attention  from  a  multitude  of  hearers.'  Win  fame, 
Mark — win  the  silence  that  will  wait  for  your  voice ; 
the  platform  more  authoritative  than  the  monarch's 
throne ;  the  reverential  attention  of  multitudes  I 
Only  let  sounds  of  words  of  truth  and  justice  fall 
upon  the  silence;  principles  of  righteousness  speak 
from  the  platform ;  and  the  confiding  attention  of  the 
crowd  be  ri vetted  to  the  glorious  right !" 

High,  inspiring  words  of  holiness  like  these  fell 
daily  from  her  lips.  But  Eosalie  was  dying — dying 
all  the  faster  because  her  failing  oil  of  life  was  con~ 
surned  so  ungrudgingly — her  lamp  of  life  shone  so 
brightly,  giving  light  where  it  was  needed.  Yes, 
Rosalie  was  dying,  and  her  husband  did  not  dream 
of  it.  Soothed  into  rest  by  her  own  sweet  patience, 
and  by  the  slowness  and  beauty  of  her  failure,  he  did 
not  dream  of  it !  He  left  her  with  an  increased  bur- 


IMMORTALITY.  373 

den  of  duties.  At  the  urgent  entreaties  of  his  political 
friends,  he  went  to  show  himself  among  the  voters 
of  the  \vestern  counties.  He  was  absent  about 
a  month,  during  which  she  toiled  for  "the  good 
cause"  faithfully — saying,  when  her  strength  was 
failing,  "There  will  be  time  enough  for  rest  here- 
after ;  I  must  *  work  while  it  is  yet  day,  for  the  night 
cometh  wherein  no  man  can  work.' "  And  so,  at 
the  close  of  her  daily  school  duties,  she  only  left 
her  school  desk  to  seat  herself  in  the  editor's  vacant 
chair;  and  the  hours  that  should  have  been  spent 
in  recreation  and  rest,  and  the  hours  that  belonged 
to  sleep,  were  devoted  to  the  interests  of  "  the  paper," 
and  the  cause  it  supported — to  writing  editorials, 
to  reading  and  answering  letters,  examining  ex- 
changes, and  propitiating  or  putting  down  opposi- 
tion. 

Mark  Sutherland  returned  at  the  end  of  the  month, 
with  the  flush  of  hope  upon  his  cheek,  the  light  of 
anticipated  triumph  in  his  eyes;  but  both  light 
and  colour  faded  from  his  face  at  the  sudden  sight 
of  Rosalie's  brilliant  eyes  and  burning  cheeks. 
Was  it  strange  that  he  never  was  struck  by  her 
illness,  except  upon  meeting  her  after  an  absence  ? 
On  the  contrary,  I  think  it  was  natural,  for  a  few 
days  accustomed  him  to  her  appearance ;  and  her 
sweet  patience,  her  cheerfulness  and  hope,  mes- 
merised him  into  peace  and  joy.  But  this  time,  as  he 
drew  her  into  the  house,  he  said — 

"  Indeed,  Rosalie,  you  must,  you  shall  give  up  your 
school.  You  are  not  strong  enough  to  continue  it ! 
Besides,  it  is  not  needful.  My  election  is  nearly 
certain,  and  then  another  sphere  and  other  more 


374  INDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF   PEARL  RIVER. 

graceful,  agreeable,  and   lady-like   amusements   will 
await  you,  dearest." 

Rosalie  smiled. 

"  Dear  Mark,  whenever  you  make  a  circuit  among 
our  hardy  country  people,  you  come  back  thinking 
me  more  fragile  than  ever,  from  the  contrast." 

And  so  she  reassured  him — and  oh !  he  was  very 
willing  to  be  reassured — and  she  continued  the  charge 
of  her  school — anxious  for  every  good  principle  she 
could  instil  into  the  minds  of  her  young  pupils — 
saying  to  herself,  "  These  little  ones  will  hereafter  be 
the  wives  and  mothers  of  law-makers,  as  all  our  people 
are  law-makers ;  they  will  live  in  an  era  when  Ameri- 
can women  will  have  more  influence  upon  the  destinies 
of  the  nation  than  they  dream  of  now.  That  influence 
must  be  for  the  right;  I  must  sow  the  good  seed,  and 
cultivate  it  while  I  live,  that,  after  I  die,  the  germ 
may  grow  and  flourish,  and  bring  forth  much  fruit  in 
other  lives!" 

But  the  day  came  at  last  when  her  school  had  to  be 
closed,  and  the  labourer  was  obliged  to  rest  from  her 
labour.  It  was  during  the  afternoon  session  of  a 
certain  Friday — a  day  never  to  be  forgotten  by  the 
young  girls,  who  loved  their  gentle  teacher  with  en- 
thusiastic devotion — in  the  midst  of  one  of  the  class- 
exercises — a  little  extempore  lecture  on  their  history 
lesson — that  a  sudden  failure  of  strength  drew  all 
colour  from  her  face,  her  head  dropped  forward  on 
her  desk,  and  she  swooned.  And  after  this  she  did 
not  teach.  Her  school  was  opened  but  once  more, 
and  for  the  last  time.  It  was  the  day  that  she  received N 
her  pupils  for  the  purpose  of  bidding  them  farewell. 
It  was  quite  a  cheerful  parting  on  her  part,  saddened 


IMMORTALITY.  375 

by  no  vain  repining;  on  theirs,  darkened  by  no  vision 
of  the  shadow  of  death.  She  made  it  the  occasion  of 
a  little  festival,  that  her  children's  last  reminiscences 
of  her  might  be  associated  with  pleasant  thoughts : 
and  yet  it  was  an  earnest  parting,  too,  that  she  sought 
to  sanctify  to  their  good.  In  taking  leave  of  each 
dear  girl,  she  laid  upon  the  heart  of  each  a  text  of 
Scripture,  suited  to  the  individual  need,  to  be  remem- 
bered for  her  sake,  and  acted  upon  until  they  should 
meet  again.  For  instance,  Regina's  besetting  sin  was 
ambition,  and  with  her  she  left,  "  What  shall  it  profit 
a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own 
souW  and  to  Augusta,  who  had  a  haughty  mind,  she 
said,  "Pride  goeth  before  a  fall,  and  a  haughty  spirit 
before  destruction ;"  to  Maud,  who  had  a  high  temper, 
she  whispered,  "  A  soft  answer  turneth  away  wrath, 
but  grievous  words  stir  up  anger ;"  to  little  Alice,  who 
was  poor  and  neglected,  and  inclined — child  as  she 
was — to  despondency,  she  said,  "  Blessed  are  the  meek, 
for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth;"  to  Fanny,  who  was 
an  impetuous,  impassioned  child  of  impulse,  she  said, 
"  He  that/  ruleth  his  own  spirit  is  greater  than  he  who 
taketh  a  city."  All  these  the  affectionate  girls  promised 
to  lay  to  heart,  and  act  upon  until  they  should  meet 
their  teacher  again.  Only  Fanny  said  she  hoped  their 
dear  teacher  would  not  treat  them  as  Lycurgus  did 
the  Spartans,  and  leave  them  laws  to  be  obeyed  during 
her  absence,  and  then  go  away,  never  to  return.  A 
cloud  passed  over  the  sunshine  of  Rosalie's  counte- 
nance; but  after  a  little  hesitation  she  said,  "If  I  live, 
dear  girls,  I  will  return  in  the  spring."  And  soon 
after  saying  this,  she  dismissed  all  the  bright-eyed, 
light-hearted  children  to  their  homes. 


376     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

Eosalie  had  been  directed  by  her  physician  to  spend 
the  fall  and  winter  in  the  South.  She  had  an  .old, 
standing  engagement  to  spend  a  few  months  in  Loui- 
siana, at  the  house  of  the  Lauderdales,  with  whom  she 
had  kept  up  a  regular  correspondence.  But,  previous 
to  embracing  this  opportunity  of  benefiting  her  health 
by  accepting  the  invitation,  Rosalie  wrote  to  her  step- 
mother, telling  her  frankly  of  the  feeble  state  of  her 
health  and  the  precarious  tenure  of  her  life,  and  of  the 
order  of  her  physician  relative  to  her  removal  South  ; 
but  expressing,  at  the  same  time,  her  dread  of  the 
inconvenience  and  trouble  to  which  her  illness  and 
death  at  their  house  might  possibly  subject  her  host 
and  hostess.  There  could  but  one  possible  answer  to 
such  a  letter  suggest  itself  to  the  mind  of  Rosalie's 
affectionate  step-mother — it  was  an  answer  in  her 
own  person.  Accordingly,  in  about  two  weeks  from 
the  day  that  Rosalie  mailed  her  letter  to  Mrs.  Lauder- 
dale,  that  lady  arrived  at  Shelton,  stopping  only  long 
enough  at  the  hotel  to  write  a  note  to  Mark  Suther- 
land, requesting  him  to  break  the  news  of  her  presence 
to  Rosalie,  and  then  come  and  take  her  to  his  wife. 

The  meeting  between  Rosalie  and  her  step-mother 
was  most  affectionate  and  tender;  but  the  patience 
of  Rose  and  the  self-possession  of  Mrs.  Lauderdale 
restrained  their  mutual  agitation.  Mrs.  Lauderdale 
had  come,  in  person,  to  take  her  step-daughter  to 
Louisiana,  that  she  might  nurse  and  watch  over  her 
during  the  journey.  And  as  soon  as  she  found  her- 
self alone  with  Mark  Sutherland,  she  said — 

"  And  you  must  let  her  go  at  once,  dear  Mark.  She 
is  iller  than  you  think,  and  the  mornings  and  the  eve- 
nings are  already  chill  in  this  bleak  clime.  Yes,  dear 


IMMORTALITY.  377 

Mark,  you  must  let  her  go  at  once;  and  if  you  cannot 
possibly  leave  your  political  interests  here,  you  may 
confidently  trust  her  to  me  on  the  journey,  for  I  love 
her  as  my  own  child,  and  will  not  leave  h(jr,  night  or 
day;  and  you  can  join  us  as  soon  as  you  get  through 
this  bustling  and  bothersome  election." 

"  No,  I  will  never  suffer  her  to  go  without  me.  I 
will  accompany  her — attend  upon  her.  I  will  never 
leave  her  again.  Let  the  election  go.  What  is  suc- 
cess to  me,  if  I  lose  her  ?  You  do  not  know  all  that 
she  has  been  to  me — all  that  she  is  to  me — Mrs.  Lau- 
derdale  !  I  tell  you,  if  she  should  sink  into  the  grave, 
earth  could  not  offer  me  a  boon  so  welcome  as  the 
half  of  that  grave !"  •;  »* 

A  few  days  after  this,  the  whole  party  set  out  for 
the  South,  and  in  a  little  more  than  a  week  arrived  at 
the  beautiful  home  of  the  Lauderdales. 

Lincoln  Lauderdale  met  and  received  them  with 
hearty  cordiality.  Upon  the  very  day  that  Mrs.  Lau- 
derdale had  left  home  to  go  up  the  river  and  visit  her 
step-daughter,  she  had  written  to  Mrs.  "Wells,  and  in- 
vited her  to  come  to  Louisiana  to  meet  her  daughter- 
in-law,  and  perhaps  her  son.  This  was  done  by  the 
kind-hearted  little  lady  with  the  purpose  of  effecting 
a  reconciliation  between  the  long-estranged  members 
of  the  family.  And  now,  on  reaching  home  again, 
among  the  letters  upon  her  boudoir  table  she  found 
one  from  Mrs.  Wells,  saying  that  the  Doctor  had  gone 
for  an  indefinitely  long  absence  to  California,  and  that 
she  should  be  pleased  to  accept  the  invitation  of  Mrs. 
Lauderdale,  who  might  expect  her  about  the  middle 
of  the  month. 

"And  the  day  after  to-morrow  is  the  sixteenth,  so, 


378  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

Mark,  you  may  daily  expect  the  arrival  of  your 
mother,"  said  Mrs.  Lauderdale,  looking  up  from  the 
epistle.  And  then  she  told  them  of  her  invitation. 

Upon  that  very  afternoon  Mrs.  Wells  arrived.  The 
meeting  between  herself  and  her  son  took  place  alone, 
by  her  request.  It  was  not  known  what  happened  at 
that  interview,  except  that  she  sobbed  a  long  time  on 
his  shoulder,  and  that  a  full  reconciliation  ensued.  To 
Rosalie  her  manner  was  very  affectionate. 

But  Rosalie,  from  the  time  of  her  reaching  Fair- 
plains,  failed  very  fast.  She  now  seldom  left  her  easy 
chair  by  the  western  window.  It  was  the  pleasantest 
and  most  beautiful  room  in  the  house  that  had  been 
assigned  the  invalid — a  room  occupying  the  first  floor 
of  a  whole  wing  of  the  house,  and  with  its  east  win- 
dows looking  far  out  upon  the  green  alluvion  that 
stretched  to  the  sandy  beach  of  the  distant  gulf,  and 
with  its  west  windows  opened  upon  a  beautiful  gar- 
den, beyond  which  spread  fields  reaching  out  to  the 
dark  pine  forest  that  stood  stately  against  the  suusut 
sky.  At  this  sunset  window  was  her  favourite  after- 
noon seat;  and  here,  with  her  friends  grouped  around 
her,  she  smiled  and  conversed  as  sweetly,  as  cheer- 
fully, if  more  faintly,  than  ever;  or  here,  with  only 
her  husband  seated  by  her  side,  she  would  sit  with 
her  thin  hand  in  his,  looking  into  his  eyes  with  such 
infinite,  unutterable  love  and  devotion,  as  though  she 
would  transfuse  all  her  mind,  and  soul,  and  spirit 
into  his  being,  to  strengthen  him  for  his  life's  trial 
and  work. 

Every  mail  brought  him  piles  of  letters  from  his 
political  friends  and  correspondents:  but  they  lay 
unanswered,  unopened,  upon  his  secretary.  Some- 


IMMORTALITY.  379 

times  she  would  inquire  about  the  prospects  of  the 
party ;  he  could  tell  her  little,  he  thought  little,  he 
cared  little  about  it ;  and  she  would  fix  her  mild  eyes 
in  mournful  wonder  upon  him. 

Soon  the  pleasant  seat  by  the  sunset  window  was 
given  up  for  the  couch,  and  too  soon  the  couch  was 
left  for  the  bed,  from  which  she  was  never  to  rise 
again.  Then  it  was,  after  her  confinement  to  her  bed, 
that  they  approached  a  subject  that  both  had  hitherto 
avoided  discussing  together — her  dissolution.  She 
still  spoke  to  him  of  the  good  cause — the  cause  of  jus- 
tice, truth,  and  freedom.  She  implored  him  to  let  no 
individual  sorrow  draw  him.  away  from,  his  labours  of 
love  to  the  whole  race  of  man ;  rather  to  consecrate 
that  sorrow  to  their  service.  And  still  she  inquired 
about  the  prospects  of  his  election  to  the  Senate.  She 
so  much  wished  to  see  him  in  the  possession  of  place 
and  power  before  her  death. 

"Not  alone  for  your  sake,  dearest  Mark,"  she  still 
repeated ;  "  not  alone  for  your  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of 
humanity." 

"Oh,  dearest  Rosalie,  why  should  I  wish  for  success? 
When  you  have  left  me,  what  motive  of  action  have 
I  on  earth  ?" 

"  A  motive  higher  than  any  my  life  could  supply 
you  with — the  service  of  God,  the  good  of  man." 

And  all  this  time  piles  of  accumulated  and  accumu- 
lating letters  from  political  partisans  lay  unopened  and 
unanswered,  on  his  forsaken  secretary. 

At  last  the  day  of  death  came — a  clear,  beautiful 
day,  that,  after  the  noontide  glory,  waned  without  a 
cloud. 

Kosalie  lay  sleeping  on  her  bed ;  her  pale  gold  hair, 


380  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

unconfined  by  a  cap,  lay  floating  on  the  pillow;  her 
wan  face  was  as  white  as  the  linen  pillow-case  against 
which  it  rested ;  her  thin,  blue-veined  arm,  uncovered 
from  the  loose  muslin  sleeve,  was  white  as  the  coun- 
terpane upon  which  it  lay.  She  slept  calmly  for  a 
while,  and  then  her  bosom  was  agitated  by  a  slight 
flutter;  it  came  a  second  and  a  third  time;  and  then, 
with  a  start  and  a  gasp,  she  awoke,  opened  her  eyes, 
and  gazed  wildly  about  for  an  instant;  then  her 
glance  fell  on  Mrs.  "Wells,  sitting  watching  by  her 
bed-side.  That  lady  arose,  and,  bending  affection- 
ately over  the  invalid,  inquired — 

"  What  do  you  want,  dearest  ?  "Will  you  take  your 
composing  draught  now  ?" 

The  eyes  of  the  death-stricken  Rosalie  softened  into 
self-possession  and  quietness,  and  she  answered  faintly, 

"  No,  mother,  not  now.     Where  is  Mark  ?" 

"  On  the  piazza,  dear." 

"Sleeping?" 

"No;  waiting  for  his  darling  to  awake." 

"  Send  him  to  me,  mother.    I  wish  to  see  him  alone." 

The  lady  stooped,  and  pressed  a  kiss  upon  the  chill 
brow  of  the  dying  girl,  and  without  suspicion  went 
out ;  and  in  half  a  minute  Mark  stood  over  Eosalie. 

She  raised  her  eyes,  a  little  wild  with  the  life-strug- 
gle, to  his  pale  face. 

"My  hour  is" come;  I  am  going,  dear  Mark;  I  am 
going !  Turn  me  over  on  my  right  side,  facing  you. 
Sit  down  by  me,  so  that  I  can  see  you  to  the  last ' 
Hold  my  hand  I" 

Agonised  with  grief,  yet  by  a  powerful  will  control- 
ling his  feelings,  he  raised  her  light  form,  and  turned 
her  as  she  desired.  And  then  he  wished  to  call  a.ssi.-t- 


IMMORTALITY.  381 

ance ;  but  with  an  imploring  look  and  gesture  she 
arrested  his  purpose,  and  said, 

"Useless,  dear  Mark!  useless  all.  Oh!  sit  near  me, 
where  I  can  see  you  till  the  last,  and  so — part  in  peace 
sweetly." 

She  lay  upon  her  right  side,  with  her  face  towards 
him,  with  her  fair  hair  floating  back  upon  the  pillow, 
with  her  blue  eyes  raised  with  unspeakable  love  to 
his  countenance,  with  her  left  hand  lying  helplessly 
over  the  white  counterpane. 

He  sunk  down  into  the  chair  by  her  side ;  he  took 
her  chill  hand  in  his  own  waim  one;  he  gazed  upon 
her  dying  face.  And,  as  he  gazed,  a  slight  spasm  agi- 
tated her  fair  throat,  quivered  over  the  sweet  lips,  and 
gave  place  to  a  heavenly  smile.  She  sought  to  speak, 
but  her  words  sank  in  quivering  music — her  eyes 
fixed  upon  his  eyes — pouring  their  last  light  in  streams 
of  unutterable  love  into  his  soul — and  so  they  remained, 
until  the  heavenly  spirit  left  them  dim  in  death. 

And  still  he  sat  gazing  upon  the  dead  face,  holding 
the  cold  hand,  until  a  noise  in  the  piazza  disturbed 
him,  and  words  and  tones  of  joy  and  triumph  fell  upon 
his  ear — and  a  familiar  voice,  asking — "Where  is 
Mark?  where  is  he?  I  swore  to  be  the  first  to  con- 
gratulate him,  and  I'll  do  it !  I  will  not  be  hindered, 
I  tell  you  1"  and  in  another  instant  Uncle  Billy  burst 
into  the  room,  and,  overjoyed,  bewildered,  blinded, 
rushed  upon  Mark,  who  had  risen  to  prevent  him, 
seized  both  his  hands,  exclaiming  exultingly — 

"  Judge  Sutherland,  you  are  elected,  sir !  Sir,  by 
an  unprecedented  vote!  Allow  me  the  honour  of 
being  the  first  to  pay  my  respects  to  our  Senator !" 

Mark  Sutherland  grasped  his  visitor's  hand  with 


382     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

overmastering  force,  and  silently  pointed  to  the  still, 
pale  form  upon  the  bed. 

Mr.  Boiling  drew  nigh,  in  sudden  awe  and  griefj 
and  his  heart  airiest  stood  still,  as  he  inquired,  with 
hushed  tones — 

"Dead?" 

"Nol"  replied  Mark  Sutherland,  reverently, — 
"  IMMORTAL  1" 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
"TAKE  UP  THE  BURTHEN  OF  LIFE  AGAIN." 

"  Blaspheme  not  thou  thy  sacred  life,  tor  turn 
O'er  joys  that  Ood  hath  for  a  reason  lent, 
Perchance  to  try  thy  spirit  and  its  oerit, 
Effeminate  soul  and  base !  weakly  to  mourn. 

"  Art  thou  already  weary  of  the  way — 

Thou  whc  hast  yet  hut  bait  the  way  pore  o'er? 
Get  up  and  lift  thy  burthen ;  lo,  heforsj 
Thy  feet  the  road  goes  stretching  far  away." — Fanny  KemUe. 

OH  life!  Oh  world  and  worldly  honour!  how 
poor  and  vain,  how  worthless  and  worse  than  worth- 
less, how  bitterly  mocking  do  ye  seem  in  the 
presence  of  death,  the  death  of  the  best-beloved! 
What  now  to  him  was  his  political  victory?  what 
the  success  of  his  party  ?  the  cause  of  the  country  ? 
aye,  of  the  world,  or  of  humanity?  Nothing,  and 
less  than  nothing !  if  that  could  be.  He  had  called 
her  "immortal" — making  what  stand  he  could  against 


THE  BURTHEN  OF   LIFE.  383 

the  overwhelming  sense  of  annihilation  that  had  fallen 
upon  him.  Alas !  alas !  he  felt  now  as  if  nothing  were 
immortal  but  his  own  bitter,  insupportable  grief; 
as  if  with  her  all  things  had  passed  from  him — 
leaving  only  insufferable  sorrow.  And  he  lifted  up 
his  voice,  and  wept — "  Oh,  Eosalie !  Eosalie  I  life  of 
my  lifel"  But  let  us  not  intrude  upon  a  grief  so 
sacred. 

Pass  we  by  the  next  few  mournful  days.  Pass  we 
by  the  funeral,  where  all  who  had  known  the  angel  in 
her  mortal  life,  gathered  araund  to  gaze  once  more 
upon  her  sweet  face,  drop  a  tear  to  her  lovely  memory, 
and  go  away,  haply,  wiser,  and  more  loving  than  they 
came. 

Pass  by  the  time  when  the  news  of  her  departure 
from  this  earth  reached  her  distant  Western  home, 
and  many  other  homes  that  felt  the  blessing  of  her 
influence  and  mourned  her  loss;  and  where  to  this 
day  the  memory  of  Rosalie  is  still  fresh  and  beau- 
tiful, sweet  and  fragrant — even  as  that  of  some  fair 
saint,  who  lived,  and  loved,  and  toiled,  and  suffered  to 
benefit  humanity,  to  whom  she  was  given ;  and  where 
the  present  thought  of  Rosalie  is  as  that  of  some 
bright  guardian  angel,  still  blessing  £rom  heaven  those 
she  loved  upon  the  earth. 

Pass  to  the  time  when  Mr.  Sutherland's  official 
duties  called  him  to  Washington  City.  The  first 
vehemence  and  severity  of  his  sorrow  was  over — but 
not  the  sorrow :  it  had  settled  rather  into  a  fixed  and 
silent  melancholy,  from  which  no  earthly  interest  was 
strong  enough  to  arouse  him.  Even  the  fine  powers 
of  his  mind  seemed  palsied  for  a  time. 

He  reached  Washington,  the  goal  of  his  young  am- 


384  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVEK. 

bition  ;  was  duly  sworn  in,  and  took  his  appointed  seat 
in  the  Senate  Chamber.  But  all  this  passed  to  him  like 
a  dream,  or  at  least  like  a  form  in  which  he  had  no 
vital  interest.  It  was  well  for  Mark  Sutherland  that 
he  was  a  man  of  very  Imposing  presence — that  his 
bearing  was  dignified  and  commanding,  and  his  fine 
Roman  features,  even  in  the  deepened  repose,  as  in  a 
painting,  or  a  marble  bust,  still  expressed  a  high  de- 
gree of  intellect ;  as,  through  that  fortuitous  accident 
of  physique,  taken  together  with  his  antecedents,  which 
were  not  those  of  a  negligent  politician — his  mental 
abstraction  passed  for  the  pride  and  reserve  of  a 
.  lofty  mind — which  it  was  not — rather  than  for  the  pro- 
found indifference,  amounting  almost  to  apathy,  of  a 
deeply  stricken  heart — as  it  was. 

Time  passed,  and  the  "  affairs  of  the  nation"  got 
slowly  under  way.  And  the  u  assembled  wisdom"  of 
the  commonwealth  took  up  its  profoundest  problems. 
Debate  after  debate  arose,  and  questions  in  which  he 
had  once  taken  the  profoundest  interest — but  they 
had  now  no  power  to  affect  or  inspire  him. 

Into  society  he  did  not  go  at  all ;  but  left  the  Capitol 
only  for  his  boarding-house,  and  his  boarding-house 
only  for  a  ride  or  a  walk  out  into  the  country. 

So  the  session  passed,  and  Mr.  Sutherland  had  failed 
to  distinguish  himself,  or  to  do  credit  to  his  consti- 
tuents. He  had  apparently  done  no  service  to  him- 
self, his  party,  humanity  or  heaven.  His  best  friends 
were  surprised,  grieved  and  disappointed  in  him. 

He  returned  home;  met  his  constituents  with  the 
same  apathetic,  frozen  indifference. 

What  was  the  matter? 

It  was  scarcely  credible  even  to  himself  that  the 


THE  BURTHEN   OF   LIFE.  885 

sorrow  that  had  fallen  upon  him — a  sorrow  no  heavier 
apparently  than  that  which  falls  upon  many  a  man 
and  woman,  who  nevertheless  "  take  up  their  burden 
of  life  again,"  and  go  on — should  have  so  paralyzed  his 
intellect  and  his  will. 

Had  all  his  motive  power  departed  with  Eosalie  ? 
Had  she  been  the  secret  and  the  fountain  of  his 
mental  and  moral  force  ?  He  had  often  said  so  and 
thought  so,  during  her  mortal  life ;  and  now  it  seemed 
to  be  demonstrated.  He  once  thought  of  resigning 
his  seat  in  the  Senate,  and  spoke  of  his  failing  health 
as  a  reason  for  doing  so ;  but  his  personal  friends  dis- 
suaded him  from  his  half-formed  purpose.  And  about 
this  time  Lincoln  Lauderdale  wrote  and  invited  Mark 
Sutherland  to  join  him  in  a  trip  to  England.  Mr. 
Sutherland  accepted  the  invitation. 

The  friends  met  by  appointment  at  St.  Louis,  and 
travelled  in  company  to  New  York,  and  embarked 
together  for  Liverpool. 

The  voyage  was  made.  The  summer  was  spent  in 
travelling  through  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland. 

And  in  the  autumn  they  returned  to  the  United 
States,  and  reached  Washington  City  just  before  the 
meeting  of  Congress. 

The  trip  had  been  made  without  much  benefit  to 
the  health  and  spirits  of  Mr.  Sutherland.  And  Mr. 
Lauderdale,  with  much  uneasiness  in  regard  to  the  state 
of  his  friend,  took  leave  of  him  in  Washington,  and 
departed  for  the  South. 

The   two   Houses   of  Congress   organized,  in   the 
course  cffi-  tune,  and  the  nation's  business  commenced. 
And  again  Mr.  Sutherland  sat  a  mere  silent,  handsome 
figure-head  in  his  seat. 
24 


386     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

In  fact,  it  required — not  travel  and  change  of  scene, 
not  the  offices  of  friendship,  nor  the  distinctions  of 
society,  but  some  powerful  emotion,  something  that 
should  sound  a  trumpet-call  to  his  heart  and  brain — 
some  mental  or  moral  shock — to  rouse  that  dormant 
mind  to  life  and  action. 

And  it  came !  In  the  midst  of  a  calm  as  profound  as 
a  sleep  of  peace,  the  thunderbolt  fell  that  struck  con- 
sternation, not  only  among  all  right-thinking  men 
upon  the  floor  of  Congress,  but  all  honest  souls  to  the 
remotest  bounds  of  the  Union.  It  was  in  the  midst 
of  the  temporary  calm  I  have  just  mentioned,  that  a 
Senator  arose  and  presented  a  bill  for  the  repeal  of  a 
treaty  hitherto  held  so  sacred  that  the  most  reckless 
of  political  adventurers  had  not  dared  to  dream  of 
meddling  with  it  until  now. 

It  was  no  very  extravagant  figure  of  speech  to  call 
that  event  a  thunderbolt.  It  took  the  Senate,  the 
House,  and  the  nation  by  surprise.  It  had  the 
momentary  stunning  effect  of  a  thunderbolt  when  it 
fell.  Men  were  struck  with  consternation,  heard  as 
doubting  the  evidence  of  their  own  senses,  and  for  a 
time  remained  dumb  with  astonishment. 

Then  followed  indignation  which  we  all  know  to 
be  anything  but  a  "dumb  devil,"  whether  it  possess 
a  man  or  a  body  of  men.  And  a  tempest  of  opposi- 
tion arose  that  in  its  turn  provoked  a  storm  of  assault 
from  the  friends  of  the  bill,  and  then  the  war  raged 
fast  and  furious.  Not  very  "  parliamentary"  was  the 
character  of  the  debates  upon  that  question,  for  it  was 
indeed  a  time  that  "tried  men's  souls,"  "what  man- 
ner of  spirit  they  were  of." 

Mr.  Sutherland  was  among  the  foremost,  most  earnest 


THE  BURTHEN   OF  LIFE.  387 

and  strenuous  among  the  opponents  of  the  bill.  I  have 
said  elsewhere  that  if  Mark  Sutherland  were  remark- 
able for  one  trait  above  all  others  it  was  for  his  severe 
sense  of  justice.  It  was  this  that  had  led,  or  rather 
driven  him  to  his  early  sacrifices ;  it  was  this  that  had 
governed  all  his  conduct  and  changed  the  whole  cur- 
rent of  his  life.  And  it  was  this  sense  of  justice 
stung  to  the  quick  that  had  roused  the  dormant  faculties 
of  his  mind,  and  woke  his  spirit  "all  the  stronger 
that  it  slept  so  long."  With  all  his  strength  of 
intellect  and  will,  he  wrought  in  the  cause  of  national 
good  faith  and  political  righteousness,  both  at  stake 
in  the  issue  of  the  pending  act.  Other  men,  abler 
men,  older  men,  veterans  in  the  political  arena,  toiled 
with  equal  zeal  and  greater  power,  and  long  and  faith- 
fully was  the  contest  kept  up.  All  that  man  could 
do  to  prevent  that  breach  of  political  faith  was  done; 
but,  alas!  the  powers  of  evil  carried  the  day:  the  bill 
was  passed,  the  sacred  treaty  repealed,  and  the  cause 
of  justice  lost  at  least  for  the  time. 

At  the  close  of  this  the  second  session  of  his  services, 
Mr.  Sutherland  returned  once  more  to  his  home  and 
to  his  constituents,  who  received  him  with  cordiality ; 
he  had  done  what  was  possible  for  the  cause  of  right. 
Thus  six  years  passed  in  the  distracting  life  of  a  poli- 
tician, six  years  since  his  Rosalie  went  to  heaven, 
and  still  Mark  Sutherland  was  a  lonely  man.  He 
now  entered  society  freely,  both  in  Washington  City, 
during  the  session  of  Congress,  and  at  the  various 
watering-places,  or  at  home  in  his  own  adopted  State. 
But  neither  the  rustic  beauty  of  the  country  maidens 
in  his  own  neighbourhood,  nor  the  refined  grace  of 
the  city  belles  that  yearly  congregate  at  the  capital, 


388     INDIA.   THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

had  been  able  to  attract  his  heart  from  its  fidelity  to 
the  memory  of  his  sainted  Rosalie.  And  at  the  end 
of  six  years'  widowhood,  though  still  in  the  early 
prime  of  life,  eminently  handsome  and  graceful,  and 
as  distinguished  for  elegance  and  accomplishments  in 
the  drawing  room  as  for  talent  and  eloquence  in  the 
Senate  chamber;  though  honoured  by  the  country  and 
courted  by  society ;  though  constantly  thrown  among 
the  young,  the  beautiful,  the  gay  and  the  fascinating; 
though  admired  by  women  as  well  as  distinguished 
by  men — Mark  Sutherland  was  still  alone — still  faith- 
ful to  an  earthly  memory  that  had  also  become  a 
heavenly  hope,  and  his  angel-wife,  Eosalie,  had  no 
mortal  rival. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

TO    WED    THE    EARLIEST    LOVED. 

"Joy  circles  round,  and  fancy  plays, 

And  hearts  are  warmed,  and  faces  blooni, 
As  drinking  health  to  bride  and  groom, 
We  wish  them  stores  of  happy  days. 

Nor  count  me  all  to  blame  if  I 
Conjecture  of  a  ttiller  gttett, 
Perchance,  perchance,  among  the  rest, 

And,  though  in  silence,  wishing  joy." — Tennyton. 

AND  where,  during  all  these  years,  was  India,  the 
once  fair,  though  faulty  "Pearl  of  Pearl  River?" 
Alas !  how  many  a  ship- wrecked  voyager  there  is 
upon  the  strands  of  life — still  making  what  stand  he 


TO  WED  THE   EARLIEST   LOVED.  389 

can  against  the  overwhelming  waves  of  despair  that, 
in  every  advancing  tide,  threaten  to  sweep  him  to 
utter  destruction!  Oh  life!  oh  mystery  of  life!  wheu 
and  where  shall  be  found  thy  true  solution  ? 

Wheu  India  had  administered  upon  the  estate  of 
her  deceased  father,  who  had  survived  the  discovery 
of  his  guilt  but  a  few  months, — when  she  had  settled 
every  just  claim  upon  it, — she  found  herself,  as  she 
had  predicted,  very  poor.  When  the  last  debt  was 
paid,  the  surplus  fund  was  so  small  that  it  would  not 
have  met  even  her  moderate  expenses  for  one  year. 

And  the  once  haughty  India,  haughty  now  no 
longer,  found  it  necessary  to  do  something  for  her 
own  support.  In  a  legal  point  of  view,  it  was  not  by 
any  means  obligatory  upon  India  to  impoverish  her- 
self to  pay  her  father's  or  her  husband's  debts.  A 
portion  of  the  property,  sufficient  for  her  own  com- 
fortable and  even  elegant  maintenance,  she  might  still 
have  withheld  from  the  creditors ;  but  with  a  late  though 
noble  sense  of  justice — emulative  of  Mark's  own  strict 
rectitude — she  resolved  to  pay  the  uttermost  farthing, 
and  clear,  as  much  as  possible,  from  blame  the  memory 
of  the  dead,  by  cancelling,  at  least,  their  pecuniary 
obligations;  even  though  by  doing  so  she  should 
leave  herself  quite  penniless.  In  vain  her  friends  and 
neighbours  remonstrated.  India,  once  so  obstinate  in 
wrong,  could  be  equally  firm  in  right. 

The  estate  settled,  the  creditors  all  paid  off,  all  other 
claims  of  justice  satisfied,  and  India,  with  a  small 
surplus,  turned  to  consider  what  next  she  should  do. 

In  the  South,  luxurious  houses  enough  were  open 
to  her.  All — even  those  who  would  fain,  out  of 
kindness,  have  persuaded  her  to  reserve  a  portion  of 


890  INDIA.      THE    PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

her  fortune  from  the  claims  of  justice — were  eloquent 
in  the  praise  of  that  high  sense  of  honour  that  led  her 
to  disregard  alike  her  own  self-interest  and  their 
benevolent  counsel.  And  many  among  the  wealthy- 
families  of  her  acquaintance,  with  true  Southern 
hospitality,  invited  and  pressed  her  to  come  and  make 
their  house  her  home  for  as  long  as  she  liked.  And 
there  is  no  doubt  but  that  the  high-born,  beautiful, 
and  accomplished  young  widow,  would  have  been 
considered  a  great  acquisition  in  the  drawing-room 
of  any  country  house.  But  at  no  time  of  her  life 
would  India  have  endured  such  a  life  of  luxurious 
dependence — and  even  now,  when  her  heart  had  been 
disciplined  and  chastened  by  sorrow,  she  much  pre- 
ferred the  honest  independence  of  labour.  Therefore 
she  gratefully  and  somewhat  proudly,  withal,  declined 
the  invitations  of  her  friends,  bade  them  kindly  adieu, 
and  left  the  neighbourhood. 

Something  of  the  old  haughty  reserve  remaining, 
perhaps,  induced  her  to  cover  her  retreat.  And  so — 
many  of  her  friends — Mark  among  others — had  quite 
lost  trace  of  her. 

And  she,  also,  had  lost  sight  of  all,  except  of  Mark 
Sutherland,  whose  rising  star  she  watched  from  afar, 
with  mingled  emotions  of  pride,  joy,  and  passionate 
regreft. 

She  had  effectually  hidden  herself  in  the  great  city 
of  New  York,  where,  as  a  teacher  of  music  and  draw- 
ing, she  lived  in  strict  retirement,  and  whence  she 
watched  the  upward  progress  of  the  successful 
statesman. 

At  the  close  of  his  first  senatorial  term,  Mark 
Sutherland  had  been  set  up  as  the  candidate  of  the 


TO   WED   THE   EARLIEST   LOVED. 

liberal  party  for  one  of  the  highest  offices  in  the  gift 
of  the  people.  Political  business,  about  this  time, 
called  Mr.  Sutherland  to  New  York.  He  was  received 
with  enthusiasm  by  the  friends  of  his  party,  and  when, 
his  business  was  dispatched,  he  entered  freely  into  the 
fashionable  society  of  the  city. 

India  had  seen  his  arrival  announced  with  the  usual 
flourish  of  the  press  trumpets.  And  every  day  she 
saw  his  honours  and  his  triumphs  chronicled  in  the 
morning  and  evening  papers.  She  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  meeting  him  in  her  poverty  now.  But  in 
that  extensive  wilderness  of  crowded  buildings,  called 
New  York,  she  believed  herself  as  completely  screened 
from  observation  and  discovery  as  though  she  had 
been  away  in  London  or  in  Paris,  or  in  a  desert  or  a 
forest.  And  she  also  felt  assured  that  he  had  not 
the  slightest  clue  to  her  dwelling  place. 

But  it  happened  that,  during  his  sojourn  in  New 
York,  Mr.  Sutherland  had  consented,  with  feelings 
partly  of  amusement  and  partly  of  annoyance,  to  sit 
for  his  portrait,  to  adorn  some  lyceum  or  lecture 
room.  And  the  painting  had  been  finished  and  hung 
up,  and  had  attracted  crowds  of  his  friends  and  ad- 
mirers— for  a  few  days — and  then  had  been  left 
"  alone  in  its  glory." 

One  morning,  at  an  hour  so  early  that  it  was  highly 
improbable  he  should  find  any  other  visitors  there, 
Mr.  Sutherland  went  to  the  lyceum  to  procure  a  rare 
volume  on  jurisprudence.  The  librarian  was  in  his 
stall,  but  otherwise  the  room  seemed  deserted. 

Perhaps  Mr.  Sutherland's  foot  was  light  in  stepping 
— perhaps  the  carpet  was  thick  and  soft,  or  it  might 
be  that  the  lady  he  presently  saw  standing  before  his 


392          INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

portrait  was  so  abstracted  that  she  could  not  hear  the 
entrance  of  another  visitor.  At  all  events,  she  did  not 
perceive  his  approach,  and  Mr.  Sutherland  went  past, 
selected  his  volume,  and  had  turned  to  go  back,  when 
a  casual  glance  at  the  lady,  and  a  flutter  of  her  brown 
veil,  disclosed  to  his  astonished  eyes  the  face  of  India. 

He  could  scarcely  suppress  an  exclamation  of  joy. 
His  first  impulse  was  to  spring  forward  and  greet  her. 
Had  he  been  some  years  younger,  he  would  have  done 
so  on  the  spur  of  the  moment ;  but  age  brings  caution 
and  teaches  self-restraint ;  and  it  was  well  he  refrained, 
for  a  second  glance  at  that  pale,  impassioned  face,  with 
those  dark,  burning  eyes,  fixed  with  such  a  fascinated 
gaze  upon  the  picture  before  her,  warned  him  that  by 
no  rude  shock  must  that  colourless,  motionless  woman 
be  approached. 

Softly  and  silently  he  drew  away  towards  the  other 
extremity  of  the  long  room,  where  the  librarian  sat  in 
his  stall. 

"  Mr.  Ferguson,  do  you  know  the  lady  at  the  other 
end  of  the  room  ?"  he  inquired  of  that  gentleman. 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  answered  the  librarian,  after  taking 
a  look  at  India. 

"  Nor  where  she  lives,  of  course  ?" 

"  Nor  where  she  lives,"  said  the  librarian,  looking 
up  in  some  surprise. 

"  I  supposed  her  to  be  a  lady  that  I  once  knew,  but 
I  did  not  like  to  speak  to  her  in  uncertainty — that  is 
all,"  said  Mr.  Sutherland,  evasively. 

The  librarian  was  a  grave  man,  as  it  befitted  a 
custodian  of  grave  books  to  be,  and  Mr.  Sutherland's 
reputation  for  unvarying  propriety  of  deportment  was 


TO  WED  THE   EARLIEST  LOVED.  393 

beyond  cavil,  so  there  was  no  quizzing,  and  their  talk 
ended  there. 

Mark  Sutherland  went  down  into  the  lobby,  con- 
sidering how  best  to  introduce  himself,  without  start- 
ling Mrs.  Ashley.  He  might  wait  until  she  should 
come  down,  and  then  follow  her  home,  ascertain  her 
address,  and  call  upon  her  the  next  day;  but  there 
appeared  to  him  to  be  something  about  such  a  course 
as  that  he  did  not  approve,  something  romantic,  ab- 
surd, yet  verging  upon  treachery.  Besides,  it  was  most 
probable  that  she  would  take  an  omnibus,  when  he 
should  lose  sight  of  her,  unless,  indeed,  he  should  get 
into  the  same  omnibus ;  to  which  there  was  the  same 
great  objection  of  presenting  himself  suddenly  before 
her,  which,  after  seeing  the  expression  of  her  face,  he 
dared  not  do ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  was  the  re- 
collection of  that  very  look  that  made  him  doubly 
anxious  to  meet  her.  After  considering  a  while,  he 
determined  to  address  a  letter  to  her  through  the  city 
post-office.  That  would  certainly  reach  her  sooner  or 
later. 

He  went  home  and  put  his  purpose  into  execution. 

He  was  unfit  for  study  or  for  society  that  day. 
That  sudden  meeting  with  India,  the  revelation  made 
by  that  look  upon  her  worn  but  still  lovely  face,  had 
stricken  the  rock  in  his  bosom,  and  the  long-sealed 
fountain  of  memory  and  affection  was  set  free. 

That  motionless,  colourless,  most  beautiful  face — it 
haunted  him  all  the  day. 

That  afternoon  he  dressed  to  go  to  a  dinner  party, 
at  a  house  on  Fifth  Avenue.  On  arriving  at  the  place, 
just  as  he  entered  the  hall,  a  lady  closely  veiled  went 
out.  That  form  and  air !  he  could  not  be  mistaken  ! 


o94  INDIA.      THE   PEARL   OF   PEARL   RIVER. 

Again,  with  a  start  of  irrepressible  pleasure,  he  had 
recognised  India. 

"  Who  is  that  lady  ?"  he  inquired  of  the  "  Jeemes" 
of  that  hall. 

"The  music  mistress,  yer  honour,"  answered 
"Jeemes,"  who  happened  in  this  case  to  be  "Patrick." 

"Do  you  know  where  she  lives  ?" 

"I'll  inquire,  yer  honour,"  replied  Patrick,  opening 
the  drawing-room  door  to  admit  the  guest,  and  then 
departing  on  his  errand.  In  a  few  moments  he  re- 
turned, with  Mrs.  Ashley's  address. 

It  was  in  a  distant  part  of  the  city.  Yet  gladly 
would  Mark  have  sought  out  her  retreat  that  night, 
had  he  been  free  to  do  so ;  but  nothing  but  the  most 
urgent  necessity  could  now  have  excused  him  from 
the  dinner  got  up  in  his  own  honour.  So  he  was 
forced  to  restrain  his  impatience  for  that  evening. 
Nay,  more ;  having  found  out  her  residence  and  men- 
tally fixed  the  hour  that  he  should  see  her.  the  next 
morning,  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  festivities  of  the 
evening,  and  was  once  more  the  brilliant  conversa- 
tionist he  was  reputed  to  be.  At  dinner,  he  led  in 
and  sat  next  one  of  the  most  charming  women  in 
New  York,  and  no  doubt  did  his  devoirs  with  equal 
grace  and  pleasure. 

Yet  neither  is  there  any  doubt  that  he  was  well 
satisfied  when  the  evening's  hospitality  was  over. 

And  he  was  still  better  pleased  when  the  night  was 
passed,  and  the  morning  came,  and  the  sun  arose,  and 
he  at  last  had  leave  to  dress  himself,  dispatch  an  early 
breakfast,  take  a  cab,  and  drive  to  the  remote  suburb 
where  India  lived. 

Was  it  a  private  dwelling  or  a  boarding-house? 


TO   WED   THE   EARLIEST   LOVED. 

The  address  gave  no  clue  to  that  question — it  desig- 
nated only  the  street  and  the  number.  He  hoped  it 
was  a  private  dwelling !  He  must  see  her  alone  1 
How  would  she  receive  him?  There  was  no  mis- 
taking that  look  upon  her  face  that  had  thrilled  him, 
striking  the  whole  "  electric  chord"  of  memory  and  pas- 
sion! that  look  of  mingled  affection,  aspiration,  and 
passionate  regret!  How  would  she  receive  him? 
Such  were  the  glad,  anxious,  questioning  thoughts 
that  chased  each  other  througfy  his  mind,  while  the 
cab  rolled  on.  In  these  tumultuous,  half-delightful, 
half-painful  recollections  and  anticipations  the  dis- 
tance was  passed. 

"  This  is  the  place,  sir,"  said  the  driver,  as  the  cab 
drew  up  before  a  little  cottage,  surrounded  by  a  small 
luxuriant  flower  garden,  and  literally  covered  and 
concealed  by  a  complete  thicket  of  tall  rose-trees  and 
climbing  vines. 

"  So  this  is  a  private  dwelling,  and  her  love  of 
beautiful  surrounding  survives  all  the  crash  of  for- 
tune and  the  wreck  of  life,"  thought  Mark  Sutherland, 
as  he  alighted  and  opened  the  gate  leading  into  the 
yard. 

Let  us  precede  him,  by  a  few  moments. 

India,  who  had  risen  from  an  almost  untasted  break- 
fast, had  passed  into  the  small  parlour  only  to  escape 
the  eyes  of  her  attendant,  the  pretty,  loving  Oriole, 
who  had  followed  the  fortunes  of  her  mistress  with 
the  most  devoted  affection  and  fidelity,  and  who,  if  a 
cloud  did  but  fall  upon  the  brow  of  Mrs.  Ashley,  re- 
flected it  in  the  sadness  of  her  own  face. 

But  this  morning,  in  the  bitterness  of  her  emotions, 
India  could  not  endure  the  sad,  wistful  glances  of  poor 


396  INDIA.      THE   PEARL  OF  PEARL   RIVER. 

Oriole ;  so  she  had  left  the  small  sitting-room  impa- 
tiently, and  passed  into  the  parlour,  where  she  paced 
up  and  down  with  the  fearful,  half- sup  pressed  excite- 
ment of  some  caged  lioness. 

Disciplined  and  chastened  as  her  heart  certainly 
had  been  in  the  trials  of  her  life,  India  was  still  very 
far  from  Christian  perfection.  And,  perhaps,  now  she 
needed  a  little  of  the  sunshine  of  happiness,  as  well  as 
the  long,  long  cloud  of  sorrow,  to  nurture  the  growth 
of  goodness  in  her  heart.  At  all  events,  she  found  it 
very  difficult  to  bear  with  fortitude  the  mortifi- 
cation and  grief  of  the  night  before.  She  had  met 
him  on  the  steps  of  one  of  those  Fifth  Avenue  palaces, 
where  her  pupils  resided.  She  had  met  him !  he  had 
passed  her,  brushing  her  dress  as  he  went  I  Though 
her  veil  was  down,  she  had  recognized  him.  And  she 
knew  by  the  start  that  he  made,  he  recognized  her  as 
well !  Yet  he  had  passed  without  speaking !  Ah !  all 
her  thoughts  of  the  future  possibilities  of  a  rencounter 
that  she  dreaded  and  shrunk  from,  had  not  shaped  a 
meeting  so  humiliating  as  this !  She  had  feared  that 
he  would  seek  her  out,  and,  from  his  pride  of  place, 
presume  to  patronize  her,  by  endeavouring  to  improve 
her  circumstances,  giving  her  advice,  offering  her  as- 
sistance— humiliations  which  to  escape  she  would 
have  fled  to  an  alms-house — or,  perhaps,  plunged  into 
a  river,  "  but  for  the  grace  of  God,"  for  India  was  but 
half  regenerated.  But  a  rencounter  so  mortifying  as 
this,  she  had  never  dreamed  of.  All  the  circumstances 
attending  that  chance  meeting  also  combined  to  make 
it  inexpressibly  galling — he  going  into  that  house  an 
honoured  guest,  for  whom  its  saloons  were  illuminated 
and  a  feast  prepared,  and  a  choice  company  gathered : 


TO   WED  THE  EAELIEST  LOVED.  397 

she  creeping  out  of  it,  a  sort  of  hired  servant  with 
her  wages  in  her  hand.  So,  in  the  present  bitterness 
of  her  mood,  she  looked  at  herself.  And  they  had  so 
met  upon  the  steps,  and  he  had  seen  her,  recognized 
her,  and  passed  her  without  speaking!  "Ahl  fooll" 
so  she  thought ;  "  there  was  little  need  to  dread  that 
he  would  seek  me  out  to  benefit  me.  The  'great 
statesman'  evidently  has  no  wish  to  be  bored  by  liis 
poor  relations.  But  oh,  Mark  !  Mark  I  that  you  should 
have  done  such  an  unworthy  thing!  you,  my  one 
saving  idea  of  manly  excellence — that  prosperity 
should  have  corrupted,  and  the  world  hardened,  even 
you!  When  you  upbraided  me  so  bitterly,  in  the 
midst  of  my  sorrows  at  Cashmere,  I  bore  it  all  with 
a  meekness — not  very  like  me  I  because — oh!  because 
I  saw  and  felt  what  you  would  never  acknowledge  to 
your  own  heart — the  secret,  unacknowledged  feeling 
that  gave  point,  sting,  and  acrimony  to  all  the  bitter 
reproaches  you  uttered.  Oh!  Mark,  in  that  day  I 
read  your  heart  as  a  woman  only  can !  But  all  this 
is  over — over — and  you  pass  me  without  recognition," 
she  said,  sinking  into  a  chair,  dropping  her  head  upon 
her  hands,  and  giving  way  for  the  first  time  in  years 
to  a  passionate  flood  of  tears. 

Hark  !  the  bell  rings — Oriole  goes  to  the  door.  It 
is  probably  the  postman,  and  India  is  too  much  de- 
pressed, and  has  too  little  to  hope,  to  care  much  about 
the  coming  of  that  messenger  of  joy  or  of  woe  to  so 
many  households.  But  hark  ! 

"  Why,  how  do  you  do,  Oriole  ?  Do  you  recollect 
me,  child  ?  Yes  ?  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  here ! 
How  is  your  mistress  ?  Is  she  in  ?" 

It  is  a  rich,  full-toned  voice  that  speaks — a  cordial, 


398     IXDIA.   THE  PEABL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

familiar,  life-giving  voice — a  voice  that  has  power  to 
thrill  every  nerve  in  her  frame — in  a  word,  it  is  Mark 
Sutherland's  voice !  and  he  is  in  the  little  hall,  and  in 
another  moment  he  will  be  in  the  room. 

Ohl  Heaven!  her  face  is  pale,  and  bathed  with 
tears — he  must  not  see  her  thus !  In  a  moment  the 
blinds  are  drawn  down,  the  curtains  dropped,  and  the 
room  obscured,  and  her  chair  is  wheeled  around 
with  its  back  to  the  windows,  so  as  to  throw  her  face 
into  deep  shadow.  So  she  will  await  him.  But  Oriole 
enters  alone,  with  a  card. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Sutherland,  madame,  and  if  you  are  dis- 
engaged he  will  be  glad  to  see  you." 

She  bows  in  assent — she  can  do  no  more;  and 
Oriole  goes  out,  returns,  and  ushers  in  Mr.  Suther- 
land. 

"Mrs.  Ashley" 

She  rises,  and  extends  her  hand. 

"  Mrs.  Ashley,  I  am  very  happy  to  see  you  again." 

She  essays  to  speak,  but  fails,  and  her  self-pos- 
session utterly  deserts  her.  The  hand  he  has  taken 
is  cold  as  ice — he  carries  it  to  his  lips. 

"My  dearest  India,  I  am  so  happy  to  find  you 
again,  after  all  these  years." 

"  All  these  years  1" — she  repeats  his  words,  mecha- 
nically, as  she  sinks  back  in  her  chair. 

He  takes  the  nearest  seat,  and  resumes — "  I  have 
sought  you  far  and  wide,  I  have  sought  you  for  so 
long,  I  have  done  all  but  advertise  you  1"  He  added, 
smiling — "Why  have  you  hidden  yourself  so  long  from 
all  your  friends  ?" 

"The  old  'sinful  pride'  perhaps,  Mark,"  she  an- 
swered, half  smiling  in  her  turn. 


TO   WED  THE   EARLIEST   LOVED.  899 

"'Pride,'" dear  India?  Ah!  I  understand  you.  Yet 
that  same  pride,  in  all  its  phases,  has  caused  much 
vexation  to  those  who  love  you,  dear  India." 

"  Do  I  not  know  it  ?     And  do  I  not  regret  it  ?" 

"  And  to  none  has  it  caused  more  trouble  than  to 
myself" — But  the  conversation  is  growing  personal, 
and  closing  in. 

You  and  I,  reader,  are  de  trop^&nd  will  withdraw 
from  the  scene  and  wait. 

The  result  was  this — that  Mr.  Sutherland  did  not 
leave  New  York  as  soon  as  he  had  expected,  by 
many  weeks. 

And  one  Sunday,  before  morning  service,  there  was 
a  quiet  marriage  ceremony  performed  before  the  altar 
of  Grace  Church. 

And  the  next  morning,  in  the  list  of  passengers  that 
sailed  in  the  Baltic,  for  Liverpool,  were  the  names  of 
"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mark  Sutherland,  and  two  servants" — 
the  latter  being  Oriole,  who  could  not  live  without  her 
mistress,  and  Mr.  Sutherland's  valet,  who  was  no 
other  than  our  old  friend  Billy  Button,  who  had  been 
well  drilled  for  some  years  past,  and  now,  in  a  speck- 
less  suit  of  black,  and  a  spotless  white  neckcloth,  pre- 
sented one  of  the  most  respectable  specimens  of  a  gen- 
tleman's gentleman. 

And   in   the   meantime,  Mr.  Sutherland's   elegant  j 
Country  seat  on  Lake   Crystal,  in  one  of  the  most  / 
thriving  of  the  Western  States,  was  left  under  the  \ 
charge  of  that  grand,  impartial,  large-hearted,  broad-  f 
visioned  specimen  of  manhood,  Mr.  Billy  Boiling,  who 
had  received  a  carte-Uanche  for  fitting  up  and  refurnish- 
ing the  house ;   for,  however  uncertain  any  one  might 
be  as  to  Mr.  Boiling's  opinions,  no  one  could  doubt 


400  IXDIA.      THE  PEARL  OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

his  taste,  which  was  really  exquisite.  And  that  gen- 
tleman took  the  greatest  possible  delight  in  preparing 
the  mansion  for  the  reception  of  the  bride. 

And,  by  the  way,  Mr.  Boiling,  by  his  universal 
agreeableness,  conquered  such  a  popularity  in  his 
own  district,  that  he  has  been  talked  of  for  the  Legis- 
lature, and  would  certainly  have  been  made  a  candidate, 
only  it  seemed  impossible  by  any  means  to  arrive  at 
his  politics,  he  being  claimed  with  equal  reason  by  all 
parties. 

Early  in  the  winter,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sutherland  re- 
turned to  the  United  States.  They  went  first,  by  in- 
vitation and  pre-engagement,  to  spend  a  month  among 
their  relatives  in  the  South. 

They  went  to  Texas,  where  they  found  Mrs.  "Wells, 
still  a  hale  and  handsome  woman,  though  on  the 
shady  side  of  fifty,  and  the  Doctor  more  appreciative 
of  her  real  worth,  and  more  attached  to  her  now  than 
he  was  at  the  period  of  his  mercenary  marriage. 
They  spent  one  happy  month  with  the  Wellses,  and 
then,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Wells,  went  into  Louisiana, 
to  pay  a  long- promised  visit  to  Lincoln  Lauderdale 
and  his  vivacious  little  lady. 

They  found  them  well  and  prosperous,  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  thriving  young  family.  Little  change 
had  time  made  in  Lincoln  or  the  piquant  "Nan."  A 
month  was  whiled  away  in  their  pleasant  society,  and 
so  it  was  near  spring  before  the  Sutherlands,  still 
accompanied  by  Mrs.  Wells,  set  out  up  the  river  for 
their  North- Western  home. 

And  it  was  quite  spring  when  they  reached  the 
beautiful  shores  of  Lake  Crystal,  and  entered  their 


TO  WED  THE  EARLIEST  LOVED.  401 

own  elegant  home.  Mrs.  Wells  remained  with  them 
and  spent  the  summer. 

And  she  still  continues  to  come  every  year  to  spend 
her  summers  with  her  "  beloved  Mark,"  her  "  only  child." 
Mark  and  India  occasionally  return  those  visits  in  the 
winter — that  is,  when  Mr.  Sutherland's  official  duties 
permit  him  to  do  so.  For  Mark  Sutherland  is  still  a 
rising  politician,  adored  by  one  party  and  abhorred 
by  another.  And,  in  the  present  hopeful  state  of  the 
public  mind,  it  is  impossible  to  predict  of  any  given 
contest  whether  the  people  mean  to  elect  or  mob  their 
own  candidate. 

But,  aside  from  Mr.  Sutherland's  public  life,  his 
home  is  a  very  happy  one.  In  his  profession  he  has 
realized  a  handsome  fortune.  By  the  death  of  her 
Uncle  Paul,  at  an  advanced  age,  India  has  inherited 
a  large  property,  so  that  they  are  entirely  independent 
in  their  pecuniary  circumstances.  India  is  as  beautiful 
but  no  longer  as  proud  as  Juno,  Queen  of  Goddesses, 
and  is  the  centre  of  a  very  refined  and  intellectual  circle. 
They  have  two  fine  children — a  beautiful  boy,  whom 
they  named  Mark — and  a  lovely  little  girl,  whom  they 
called  India. 

Mrs.  Sutherland,  in  a  mood  of  magnanimity,  pro- 
posed that  this  child  should  be  christened  Rosalie; 
but  Mr.  Sutherland  could  by  no  means  be  brought  to 
consent  to  that.  No !  the  child  must  have  its  mother's 
name — only  hers.  And  so  she  had.  India  was  flat- 
tered and  pleased.  And  Mark  Sutherland  was  exactly 
right. 

Was  Rosalie  then  forgotten  ? 

No !  no !  and  a  thousand  times  no !  She  was  well 
remembered.  Her  name  was  a  sacred,  sacred  name, 
25 


402  INDIA.      THE  PEARL   OF  PEARL  RIVER. 

that  he  could  not  bear  to  give  to  another  creature. 
It  was  hers  and  hers  only ;  it  represented  her  indivi- 
duality ;  it  stood  to  him  for  all  that  was  most  beautiful, 
pure,  lovely  and  sweet — aye,  heavenly  1  lie  could  not 
bear  to  bestow  it  upon  India's  child,  passionately  as 
he  loved  that  child  and  its  mother.  Reader,  do  you 
understand  that  ?  India  had  once  been  his  boyhood's 
passion,  as  she  was  now  his  manhood's  love.  He  pre- 
ferred her  immeasurably  before  all  living  women.  She 
was  a  handsome,  intellectual,  and  warm-hearted  woman, 
eminently  fitted  to  make  a  man  like  Mark  Sutherland 
happy.  And  his  marriage  with  her  was  eminently 
happy. 

The  beautiful  India  was  his  Hertha,  but  there  was 
one  who  had  gone  before  who  was  and  is  his  Psyche. 
And  deep  in  his  heart  is  a  chamber  into  which  no 
mortal  creature  entereth — a  sanctuary  closely  veiled 
from  all  human  knowledge — a  holy  of  holies,  sacred 
to  one  earthly  memory  and  one  heavenly  hope — 
consecrated  to  the  veiled  worship  of  his  angel  wife — 

ROSALIE. 


FINIS. 


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Iiif>  of  Harry  Thomas,  the  Western  Burglar  and  Murderer.  Pull  ol  Engra- 
v  --gs.  Pries  25  cents. 

II  nstrated  Life  and  Adventure*  of  the  Desperadoes  of  the 
A" ew  World.  PMce  25  cents. 

Life  and  Adventures  of  Ninon  De  L'Enclos,  with  her  Letters  on  I;ove, 
Courtship  and  Marriage.  Price  25  cents. 

The  Pictorial  Newgate  Calendar)  or  the  Chronicles  of  Crime.  Beautifully 
illustrated  with  Fifteen  Engravings.  252  page*.  Price  Fifty  cents. 


T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS. 
GEORGE  LIPPARD'S  WORKS. 

Washington  and  His  Generals;  or,  Legends  of  the  American  Revolution. 
Complete  in  two  iarge  octavo  volumesof  53b  pages,  printed  on  the  finest  whit*  paper. 
Price  for  the  entire  work,  One  Dollar. 

The  Quaker  City;  or  the  Monks  of  Monk  Hall.  A  Romance  of  Phi- 
ladelphia Life,  Mystery  and  Crime  Illustrated  with  numerous  Engravings.  Com- 
plete in  two  large  octavo  volumes  of  500  pages.  Price  for  the  entire  work,  One  Dollar. 

The  Ladye  of  Albarone;  or  the  Poison  Goblet.  A  Romance  of  the 
Dark  Ages.  Lippard's  Last  Work.  Complete  in  one  large  octavo  volume  of  258  pages. 
Price  75  cents. 

Paul  Ardenhelm;  the  Monk  of  Wis.iahikon.  A  Romance  of  the  Revolntion. 
Illustrated  with  numerous  engravings.  Complete  in  two  large  octavo  volumes,  of 
nearly  600  pages.  Price  One  Dollar, 

Blanche  of  Brandyvrine  ;   or  September  the   Eleventh,  1777. 

A  Romance  of  the  Poetry,  Legends,  and  History  of  the  Battle  of  Brandywine.  It 
makes  a  large  octavo  volume  of  350  pages,  printed  from  new  type,  and  on  the  finest 
white  paper.  Price  for  the  complete  work,  /5  cents. 

Legends   of   Mexico:   or   Battles   of  General   Zachary   Taylor, 

late  President  of  the  United  States.  Complete  in  one  octavo  volume  of  128  pages. 
Price  25  cents. 

The  Naxarene s  or  the  Last  of  the  Washington*.  A  Revelation  ol 
Philadelphia.  New  York,  and  Washington,  in  the  year  1844.  Complete  in  one  vcluine 
Price  50  cents. 

Bel  of  Prairie  Eden.    A  Romance  of  Mexico.    Price  25  cent*. 

Professor  LIEBIG'S  Works  on  Chemistry. 

Agricultural  Chemistry.  Chemistry  in  its  application  to  Agriculture  and 
Physiology.  136  pages.  Price  25  cents. 

Animal  Chemistry.  Chemistry  in  its  application  to  Physiology  and  Pathology 
111  pages.  Price  26  cents. 

Familiar  Letters  on  Chemistry,  audits  relations  to  Commerce,  Physiology 
and  Agriculture. 

The  Potato  Disease.  Researches  into  the  motion  of  the  Juices  in  the  Animal 
Body. 

Chemistry  and  Physics  in  Relation  to  Physiology  and  Pa- 
tholegy. 

T.  B.  PETERSOBT  also  publishes  a  complete  edition  of  Professor  Liebig's  works 
on  Chomistrv,  comprising  the  whole  of  the  above.  They  are  bound  in  one  large  royal 
octavo  volume,  in  Mu--lin  gilt.  Price  for  the  complete  works  bound  in  one  volume.  One 
Dollar  and  Fifty  cents. 

FRENCH,  GERMAN,  SPANISH,  LATIN  &  ITALIAN  LANGUAGES. 

Any  person  unacquainted  with  either  of  these  languages,  can,  with  the  aid  of  these 
works,  be  enabled  to  rrad.  write  and  speak  the  language  of  either,  without  the  aid  of  a 
teacher,  or  any  oral  instruction  whatever,  provided  they  pay  strict  attention  to  the  in- 
gtiuctions  laid  down  in  each  bonk,  and  that  nothing  shall  be  passed  over,  without  a 
thorough  investigation  of  the  subject  it  involves:  by  doing  which,  they  will  be  able  to 
jrpexfe,  read  or  write  either  language,  at  their  will  and  pleasure. 

Spanish  Without  a  Master.    In  Four  Easy  Lessona. 

French  Without  a  Master.    In  Six  Easy  Lessors 

Italian  Without  a  Master.    In  Five  Easy  Lesson*. 

German  Without  a  Master.    In  Six  Easy  Lessonj. 
Latin  Without  a  Master.     In  Six  Easy  Lessons. 

Price  of  either  of  the  above  Works,  separate.  25  cents — cr  the  whole  five  may  be  had 
ihr  One  Dollar.  They  can  be  sent  by  mail  to  any  part  of  the  United  States  for  about 
four  cents  eaA. 


6  _    T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS. 


B.  D'ISRAELI'S   NOVELS. 

Vivian  Grey.    By  B.  D'Israeli,  31.  P.    Complete  in  one  large  octavo  volume  of  225 

pages.    Price  Fifty  cents. 

THe  Young  Duke  :  or  the  Younger  Days  of  George  the  Fourth.  By  B.  D'lsraell 
M.  P.  One  octavo  volume,  154  pages.  Price  37J£  cents. 

Venetla  t  or  Lord  Byron  and  his  Daughter.  By  B.  D'Israeli,  M.  P.  Complete  in  one 
octayo  volume  of  154  pages.  Price  Fifty  cents. 

Henrietta  Temple.  A  Love  Story.  By  B.  D'Israeli,  M.  P.  One  volume,  octavo, 
Price  50  cents. 

Contarlni  Fleming.  An  Autobiography.  By  B.  D'Israeli,  M.  P.  One  yolume. 
octavo.  Price  37^  cents. 

Miriam  Alroy.    A  Romance  of  the  Twelfth  Century.    By  B.  D'Israeli,  M  P.   One 

volume  octavo.     Price  37}^  cents. 

EUGENE  SUE'S  NOVELS. 

The  Mysteries  of  Paris  ;  and  Gerolsteiii,  the  Sequel  to  it  By  Eugene 
Sue,  author  of  the  "  Wandering  Jew,"  and  the  greatest  work  eve;  written.  Complete 
In  two  volumes,  octavo,  each  50  cents. 

The  Illustrated  Wandering  Jew.  By  Eugene  Sue.  With  87  large  Illus- 
trations. Two  volumes,  each  50  cents. 

The  Female  Bluebeard;  or,  the  Woman  with  many  Husbands.  By  Eujtene 
Sue.  115  pages.  Price  25  cents. 

First  Love.    A  Story  of  the  Heart    By  Eugene  Sue.    114  pages.    Price  25  cents. 
Woman's  Love.     A  Novel.    By  Eugene  Sue.    Illustrated.    Price  25  cents. 
Man-of-War's-Man.     A  Tale  of  the  Sea.     By  Eugene  Sue.    Price  25  cent* 

Ruoul  de  Surville  ;   or,  the  Times  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte  in  1810.    26  cents.' 

Works  by  the  Best  and  Most  Popular  Authors. 

The  Cabin  and  Parlor;  or,  Slaves  and  Masters.  A  true  history  of 
«  NORTH  AND  SOUTH."  By  J.  Thornton  Randolph.  This  book  is  fully  equal  in 
point  of  interest  to  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  336  pages.  Beautifully  illustrated,  from 
orii^nal  designs  drawn  by  Stephens.  Price  Fifty  cents  in  paper  covers;  or  a  finer 
edition,  printed  on  thicker  and  better  paper,  and  handsomely  bound  in  muslin,  gilt 
is  published  for  One  Dollar. 

Life  In  th«  South.  A  companion  to  «  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  By  C.  H,  Wiley. 
Beautifully  illustrated  from  original  designs  by  Darley.  Price  Fifty  cents. 

Valentine   Vox,  the  Ventriloquist.    By  Henry  Cockton.    317  pages.  Price  50  cts. 

Sketches  in  Ireland.  By  William  M.  Thackeray,  author  of  "Vanity  Fair," 
"  History  of  Pendennis,"  etc.  It  is  equal  in  every  respect  to  "  Vanity  Fair."  Price  50  cts. 

The  Parricide  ;  or  the  Youth's  Career  in  Crime.  By  Q.  W.  M.  Reynolds.  Illus- 
trated. Price  50  cents. 

Ten  Thousand  a  Year.    By  the  author  of  a  "Diary  of  a  London  Physician." 

432  pages.    Price  50  cents. 

First  and  True  Love,  A  True  Lore  Story.  By  George  Sand,  author  of  "Con- 
suelo,"  "  Indiana,"  etc.  It  is  one  of  the  most  charming  and  interesting  works  ever 
published.  Full  of  Engravings.  Price  50  cents. 

Cruising  in  the  Last  War.  A  Naval  Story  of  the  War  of  1812.  First  and 
Second  Serias.  Being  the  complete  work,  unabridged.  By  Charles  J.  Peterson.  228 
octavo  pages.  Price  50  cents. 

The  Mob  Cap:  and  Other  Tales.  By  Mrs.  Carolne  Lee  Hent  z,  author  of 
"  Linda,"  "  Reua,"  etc.  Price  50  cents. 

Life  in  Paris.  By  0.  W.  M.  Reynolds,  author  of  "Life  in  London,"  etc.  Full  of 
Engravings.  Price  50  cents. 


T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS.        7 

The  Mysteries  of  a  Convent.  By  one  of  the  most  celebrated  Methodist 
Preachers  now  living.  Price  25  cents. 

Bell  Brandon,  and  the  Withered  Fig  Tree.  By  P.  Hamilton  Myeim, 
autoor  of  "  Miser's  Heir."  A  Three  Hundred  Dollar  prize  novel.  Price  25  ces is. 

Kuowlson's  Complete  Cattle,  or  Cow  Doctor.    Price  25  cents. 

Knowlson's  Complete  Farrier,  or  Horse  Doctor.    Price  25  cents. 

The  Roman  Traitor;  or,  The  Days  of  Cataline  and  Cicero. 
By  Henry  William  Herbert,  author  of  "  Cromwell,"  "  The  Brothers,"  etc.  This  is 
one  of  the  most  powerful  Roman  stories  in  the  English  language,  aud  is  of  itself 
sufficient  to  stamp  the  writer  as  a  powerful  man.  The  dark  intrigues  of  the  dt.j* 
which  Caesar,  Sallust,  and  Cicero  made  illustrious ;  when  Cataline  defied  and  almost 
defeated  the  Senate;  when  the  plots  which  ultimately  overthrew  the  Roman  Republic 
were  being  formed,  are  described  in  a  masterly  manner.  The  book  deserves  a  promi- 
nent position  by  the  side  of  the  great  Bdlum  CUialinarium  of  Sallust,  and  if  we 
mistake  not,  will  not  fail  to  occupy  a  prominent  place  among  those  produced  in 
America.  This  splendid  work  is  published  complete  in  two  large  volumes,  of  over 
200  pages  each,  paper  cover,  price  50  cents  a  volume,  or  the  whole  work  is  hand- 
somely bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  price  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

Countess  de  Charny;  or,  The  Fall  of  the  French  Monarchy. — 
By  Alexander  Dumas.  This  work  is  the  final  conclusion  of  the  "  Memoirs  of  a  Phy- 
sician," "  The  Queen's  Necklace,"  and  •'  Six  Years  Later,  or  Taking  of  the  Bastile." 
AH  persons  who  have  not  read  Dumas  in  this,  his  greatest  and  most  instructive  pro- 
duction, should  begin  at  once,  and  no  pleasure  will  be  found  so  agreeable,  and 
nothing  in  novel  form  so  <hseful  and  absorbing.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  beauti- 
fully illustrated.  Price  $100. 

Wild  Oats  sown  Abroad ;  or,  On  and  Oft"  Soundings.  By  a  gentle- 
man of  leisure.  It  is  the  Private  Journal  of  a  Gentleman  of  Leisure  and  Education, 
and  of  a  highly  cultivated  mind,  in  making  the  tour  of  Europe.  Whoever  buys  the 
hook  and  reads  the  opening  chapter,  we  venture  to  say,  would  not  part  with  it  for 
ten  times  its  cost,  if  he  could  not  procure  another.  It  ia  having  a  sale  unprecedented 
in  the  annals  ot  literature,  for  nothing  equal  to  it  in  spiciness,  vivacity,  and  real 
scenes  and  observations  in  daily  travel,  has  ever  appeared  from  the  press.  Complete 
in  one  volume,  price  50  cents  in  paper  cover,  or  75  cents  in  cloth,  gilt. 

Percy  Effingham.  By  Henry  Cockton,  author  of  "  Valentine  Vox,  the  Ventrilo- 
quist," complete  in  one  large  octavo  volume,  price  50  cents. 

American  Pocket  Library  of  Useful  Knowledge.  New  and  en- 
larged edition,  with  numerous  engravings.  Twenty  thousand  copies  sold.  Price  50 
cents  a  copy  only.  We  have  never  seen  a  volume  embracing  anything  like  the  same 
quantity  of  useful  matter.  The  work  is  really  a  treasure,  and  should  speedily  find 
its  way  into  every  family.  It  also  contains  a  large  and  entirely  new  Map  of  the 
United  States,  with  full  page  Portraits  of  the  Presidents  of  the  United  States, 
from  Washington  until  the  present  tune,  executed  in  the  finest  style  of  the  art. 

Life  and  Adventures  of  Arthur  Spring,  the  murderer  of  Mrs.  Ellen 
Lynch  and  Mrs.  Honora  Shaw,  with  a  complete  history  of  his  life  and  misdeeds,  from 
the  time  of  his  birth  until  he  wms  hung,  illustrated  with  portraits.  Price  25  cents. 

Cadet  of  Temperance;  being  a  complete  collection  of  Dialogues,  Scenes,  Re- 
citations, Songs,  Odes,  etc.,  designed  for  the  \\se  of  Sections  in  their  public  and  private 
exhibitions.  By  James  Knorr.  Every  child  in  the  country  should  have  it.  Price 
25  cents  a  copy  in  paper  cover,  or  31%  cents  in  cloth,  gilt 

Henxy  Clay.  Nagle's  Correct,  full-length,  Mezzotinto  Portrait  and  only  true 
likeness  ever  published  of  the  distinguished  Statesman.  Engraved  by  Sartain. 
Price  fl  00  a  copy  only.  Size,  22  by  30  inches.  Originally  sold  at  $5  00  a  copy. 

The  Mixer's  Heir  ;  or  The  Young  Millionaire.  A  story  of  a  Guardian 
and  his  Ward.  A  Prize  Novel.  By  P.  H.  Myers,  author  of  the  "  Emigrant  Squire." 
Price  60  cents  in  paper  cover,  or  75  cents  in  cloth,  gilt 

Siege  of  Londonderry.  A  History  of  the  Siege  of  Londonderry,  and  defence 
of  Jinniskillen,  in  1688  and  1CS9,  by  the  Rev.  John  Graham.  Price  37  cents. 

Rev.  Albert  Barnes  on  the  Maine  Liquor  Law.  The  Throne 
of  Iniquity;  or  sustaining  Evil  by  Law.  A  discourse  in  behalf  of  a  law  pro- 
hibiting the  traffic  in  intoxicating  drinks.  Price  12J,£  cents. 

Woman.  Discourse  on  Woman.  Her  sphere,  duties,  etc.  By 
Lucre ti a  Mott  Price  12%  cents. 

Victims  of  Amusements,  by  Martha  Clark,  and  dedicated  by  the  author  to 
the  Sabbath  Schools  of  the  land.  One  volume,  cloth,  gilt.  Price  37%  cents. 

Euchre.  The  Game  of  Euchre  and  its  Laws.  By  a  member  of  » 
Euchre  Club  of  Philadelphia  of  Thirty  Years  standing.  Price  12]^  cents. 


8       T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS. 

Salathlel;  or  the  "Wandering  Jew.    By  Key.  George  Croly.   Price  50  eta. 

Xilorente's  History  of  the  Inquisition  In  Spain.    Only  edition  yxb- 

lished  in  this  Country.    Price  Fifty  cents:  or  handsomely  bound  in  muilii,  gilt, 
Seventy-five  cents. 

Dr.  Ilollic  k's  Anatomy  and  Physiology,  with  a  large  dissected  plate  of 
the  Human  Figure,  colored  to  Life.  By  the  celebrated  Dr.  Hollick,  author  of  "The 
True  Art  of  Healing  the  Sick,"  "  Origin  of  Life,"  etc.  Price  One  Dollar. 

Mysteries  of  THree  Cities.  Boston,  New  York,  and  Philadelphia.  By  A.  J. 
H  Duganue.  200  pages.  Price  50  cents. 

Red  Indians  of  Newfoundland.  A  beautifully  illustrated  Indian  Story, 
by  the  author  of  "Prairie  Bird."  Price  50  cents. 

Harris's  Adventures  In  Africa.  This  book  is  a  rich  treat  Two  volumes. 
Price  $1  00,  or  handsomely  bound,  $1  50. 

Indi  ana.  By  George  Sand,  author  of  "  First  and  True  Love,"  etc.  A  very  bewitching 
and  interesting  work.  258  pages.  Price  50  cents. 

The  Petrel;  or  Love  on  the  Ocean.  A  sea  novel  equal  to  the  best,  by 
Admiral  Fisher.  200  pages.  Price  50  cents. 

Aristocracy,  or  Life  among  the  Upper  Ten.  A  true  novel  of  fashionable  life.  By 
J.  A.  Nunes,  Esq.  Price  50  cento. 

Mor  monism  Exposed.  Full  of  Engravings,  and  Portraits  of  the  Twelve  Apos- 
tl«*"_.  frice  12%  cents. 

Genevra':  or  the  History  of  a  Portrait  By  Miss  ^airfield,  one  of  the  best  Writers 
in  ^  _orica.  200  pages.  Price  50  cents. 

Illustrated    Life    and    Adventures    of    Don    Q,utxotte    de    L.a 

Mancha,  and  his  Squire  Sancho  Panza,  revised  and  corrected,  with  all  the  original 
notes     300  pages.    Price  75  cents ;  or  handsomely  bound,  One  Dollar. 

Philip  In  Search  of  a  Wife.  By  the  author  of  "Kate  in  Search  of  a  Hus- 
band." Price  25  cents. 

Wild  Sports  in  the  West.  By  W.  H.  Maxwell,  author  of  "Dark  Lady  ot 
Doona."  Price  50  cents. 

The  Romish  Confessional.    By  M.  Michelet.    300  pages.    Price  50  cents. 
Dr.  Berg's  Answer  to  Archbishop  Hughes.    Price  12%  cents. 
Dr.  Btrg's-   Lecture  on  the  Jesuits.    Price  12%  cents. 

Flirtatious  In  America;  or  High  Life  In  New  York.  A  capital 
book.  285  pages.  Price  50  cents. 

The  Lady's  Work  Table  Boole.  Illustrated.  A  work  every  Lady  should 
possess.  Price  50  cents,  in  paper;  or  beautifully  bound  in  crimson  gilt,  for  75  cents. 

The  Coquette.  One  of  the  best  books  ever  written.  One  volume,  octavo,  over 
200  pages  Price  50  cents. 

Odd  Fellowship  Exposed.  W ith  all  the  Signs,  Grips,  Pass-words,  etc.  Dins- 
8tr«.t<>d.  Price  12%  cent*. 

Th»  J.lfe  and  Death  of  the  Rev.  John  X.  Maffit;  with  his  Portrait 
Prioe  12%  cents. 

The  Necromancer.  A  Romance  of  the  times  of  Henry  the  Eighth.  By  G.  W. 
M.  Reynolds.  Two  volumes.  Price  Seventy-five  cents. 

Pietorfal   Life  and  Adventures    of  Davy   Crockett.    Written  by 

himself.    Embellished  Tith  spirited  and  beautiful  illustrations.    Price  50  cents. 
Ugly  Kffie  ;  or,  the  Neglected  One,  and  Pet  Beauty,  and  othei 

Tale*-    By  Mrs.  Caroline  Lee  Hentz,  author  of  "  Mob  Cap,"  etc.    Price  50  cent*. 
The  Emigrant  Squire.    By  the  author  of  "  Bell  Brandon."  This  has  just  been 

completed  in  the  Dollar  Newspaper,  where  it  has  been  very  popular.    Price  25  cents. 
Jenny  Ambrose  ;  or,  Life  in  the  Eastern  States.     By  the  author  of 

"  Lights  and  Shadows  of  Factory  Life."    An  excellent  Book.    Price  25  cents. 
A  Tear  After  Marriage.    By  T.  S.  Arthur.    Price  25  cents. 
Trials  of  a  Needle-woman.    By  T.  S.  Arthur.    Price  50  cents. 


T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS.      9 
EMERSON  BENNETT'S   BOOKS. 

Viola;  or,  Adventures  in  the  Far  South-West.  By  Emerson  Bennett, 
This  has  been  appearing  in  the  columns  of  the  Saturday  Evening  Post  for  the  last  twelve 
weeks,  where  it  has  proved  to  be  one  of  the  most  popular  and  powerful  nouvellette* 
ever  written  in  America.  Price  50  cents  in  paper  cover,  or  75  cents  in  cloth,  gilt 

Clara  More]  mid.  A  sequel  and  continuation  of"  Viola."  By  Emerson  Bennett. 
This  is  a  powerfully  written  romance,  which  is  destined  to  have  a  permanent  reputa- 
tion. The  characters  are  boldly  drawn,  the  plot  striking,  the  incidents  replete  with 
thrilling  interest,  and  the  language  and  descriptions  natural  and  graphic.  336  pages. 
Price  50  cents  in  paper  cover,  or  One  Dollar  in  cloth,  gilt. 

The  Forged  Will.  By  Emerson  Bennett.  This  celebrated  and  beautiful  work 
is  published  complete  in  one  large  volume,  of  over  800  pages,  paper  i»ver,  price  50 
cents ;  or  the  work  is  handsomely  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  gilt,  price  $1  00.  One 
hundred  thousand  copies  of  the  Forged  Will  will  be  gold  in  a  short  time,  and  it  will 
have  a  run  and  popularity  second  only  to  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.  The  press  everywhere 
are  unanimous  in  its  praise,  as  being  one  of  the  most  powerful  works  in  the  language. 

The  Pioneer's  Daughter,  and  Unknown  Countess.  By  Emerson 
Bennett.  Price  50  cents  in  paper  cover,  or  75  cents  in  cloth,  gilt. 

Heiress  of  Bellefonte,  and  Walde-Warren.  By  Emerson  Bennett. 
Price  50  cents  in  paper  cover,  or  75  cents  in  cloth,  gilt 

Kate  Clarendon  ;  or,  Necromancy  In  the  Wilderness.  By  Em- 
erson Bennett  Price  50  cents  in  paper  cover,  or  75  cents  in  cloth,  gilt 

Bride    of  the   Wilderness.    By  Emerson  Bennett    Price  50  cents. 

HISS  LESLIE'S  NEW  RECEIPTS  FOR  COOKING, 

Kiss  Leslie's  New  Receipt*)  for  Cooking  of  all  Kinds.  Cakrg, 
Pastry,  <fcc.,<fcc.  Entitled;  "New  Receipts  for  Cooking,"  by 
Miss  Leslie,  comprising  new  and  approved  methods  of  preparing  all  kinds  of 
soups,  fish,  oysters,  terrapins,  turtle,  vegetables,  meats,  poultry,  game,  sauces,  pickles, 
sweet  meats,  cakes,  pies,  puddings,  confectionary,  rice,  Indian  meal  preparations  of 
all  kinds,  domestic  liquors,  perfumery,  remedies,  laundry  work,  needle-work,  letters, 
additional  receipts,  etc.  Also,  list  of  articles  suited  to  go  together  for  breakfasts, 
dinners  and  suppers,  and  much  useful  information  and  many  miscellaneous  subjects 
connected  with  general  house-wifery.  New  edition,  enlarged  and  improved,  complete 
in  520  pages,  handsomely  bound.  Price  One  Dollar  a  copy  only.  This  work  has  had 
a  very  extensive  sale,  and  many  thousand  copies  have  been  sold,  and  the  demand  is 
increasing  yearly,  being  the  most  complete  work  of  the  kind  published  in  the  world, 
and  also  the  latest  and  best,  as  in  addition  to  Cookery,  its  receipts  for  making  cakes 
and  confectionary  are  unequalled  by  any  other  work  extant 

This  excellent  and  valuable  book  is  published  under  the  title  of"  NEW  RECEIPTS 
FOR  COOKING,"  BY  MISS  LESLIE;  and  is  entirely  different  from  any  other  work  on 
similar  subjects,  under  other  names,  by  the  same  author. 

It  is  an  elegantly  printed  duodecimo  volume  of  520  pages;  and  in  it  there  will  be 
found  One  Thousand  and  Eleven  new  Jteceipts—ill  useful — some  ornamental— and  all 
invaluable  to  every  lady,  miss,  or  family  in  the  world. 

A  very  important  feature  in  this  new  and  admirable  Cook  Book,  under  the  title  of 
«  NEW  RECEIPTS  FOR  COOKING,"  BY  MISS  LESLIE,  will  be  found  in  the  list  of  ar- 
ticles Miitnl  together  for  Breakfasts,  Dinners,  Suppers,  Ac,  In  it  will  be  found  ex- 
tremely popular  and  useful  suggestions, — of  immense  value  in  every  household,  adding 
greatly  to  its  convenience,  its  comfort  and  economy. 

Mysteries  of  the  Court  of  the  Stuarts,  under  the  reign  of  Charles  the 
Second,  and  James  the  Second.  An  Historical  Romance.  The  period  during  the 
reigns  of  Charles  II.  and  James  II.,  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  in  English  History. 
Nell  Gwynne,  first  a  poor  actress,  and  again  as  the  king's  mistress,  and  possessing 
more  than  a  queen's  influence,  is  the  prominent  character.  The  various  characters 
are  well  drawn,  and  the  construction  of  the  tale  is  thoroughly  artistic.  The  scenes 
shift  continually,  and  the  interest  of  the  reader  is  well  sustained  to  the  close.  Com- 
plete- in  one  volume.  Price  50  cents. 

"This  is  an  historical  romance  of  a  brilliant  period  of  English  annals,  and  its  au- 
thor has  caught  the  spirit  of  the  times,  and  worked  up  his  materials  with  no  common 
degree  of  skilL  The  book  will  be  found  exceedingly  interesting." — Soutliern  Literary 
Gazette. 

The  Complete  Kitchen  and  Fruit  Gardener,  for  popular  and 
general  use.  Price  26  cents. 

The  Complete  Florist :  or  Flower  Gardener.    The  best  in  the  world. 

Price  25  cents. 
Morcton  Hull;   or,   the   Spirits  of  the  Haunted  House.    A  Tula 

founded  on  facts.    Price  25  cents. 


10      T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS. 
HUMOROUS  AMERICAN  WORKS, 

Sol.  Smith.. — Theatrical  Apprenticeship  ami  Anecdotal  Rec- 
ollections of  Sol.  Smith,  Esq.,  Comedian,  Lawyer,  etc.,  with  eight 
original  designs  and  illustrations  by  Darley.  Containing  Early  scenes,  Wanderings 
in  the  West — Cincinnati  in  Early  Life — "  One  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts" — 
Expedient  to  gain  a  Livelihood — Early  days  of  Edwin  Forrest — The  Manager  in  Dis- 
tress—Pittsburgh Theatricals— Philadelphia  Gardens  in  1824— The  Old  Chatham 
Theatre — Star-gazing  in  New  York — Concerts  in  New  Jersey — Getting  thro'  a  Winter 
— Strolling  in  Canada — The  Murderous  Alleghanians — Dawning  of  the  Drama  in 
Lewistowu — Floating  down  the  Stream — Theatricals  in  Kentucky — Anecdotal  Recol- 
lections since  1827— A  Theatrical  Dentist — The  Rival  Vocalists — Pettifogging  in  St. 
Louis — A  Friendly  Game  of  Poker — Tom  the  Curtain  Man — The  Manager  and 
Planter,  Siguor  Matthieu— Letter  to  Rev.  A.  Ballard— My  First  and  Last  Sermon — 
Tennessee  Door-keeper — The  Player  and  the  Phrenologist — Interview  with  an  Editor, 
Ac.,  &c.  Complete  in  one  volume.  Price  50  cents. 

Sol.  Smith.  Second  Series.  The  Theatrical  Journey-work  and  Anecdotical 
Recollections  of  Sol.  Smith,  Esq.,  with  a  portait  of  Sol.  Smith.  It  comprises  a  sketch 
of  the  second  Seven  years  of  his  professional  life,  together  with  some  Sketches  of 
Adventure  in  after  years.  One  volume,  with  an  illustrative  cover.  Price  50  cents. 

A  Q,uarter  Race  In  Kentucky,  and  other  Stories — By  W.  T.  Porter, 
Esq.,  of  the  New  York  Spirit  of  the  Times,  with  «fcght  illustrations  and  designs  by 
Darley.  Containing  a  Quarter  Race  in  Kentucky — A  Shark  Story — Lanty  Oliphant 
in  Court — Bill  Morse  on  the  City  Taxes — Ance  Veasy's  Fight  with  Reub  Sessions — 
The  Fastest  Funeral  on  Record — Going  to  Bed  before  a  Young  Lady — A  Millerite 
Miracle — Old  Singletire  "  Running  a  Saw"  on  a  French  Gentleman — Breaking  a  Bank 
• — Taking  tho  Census — Dick  Harlan's  Tennessee  Frolic — "  Falling  off  a  Log"  in  a  game 
of  "  .Seven  up" — The  "  Werry  Fast  Crab" — •'  French  without  a  Master" — A  Rollick- 
ing Dragoon  Officer — The  Georgia  Major  in  Court— Uncle  Billy  Brown  "  Glorious" — 
Old  Tuttle's  Last  Quarter  Race — Bill  Dean  the  Texan  Ranger — The  Steamboat  Cap- 
tain who  was  averse  to  racing — Bob  Herring  the  Arkansas  Bear  Hunter — MeAlpin's 
Trip  to  Charleston — Indian  Rubber  Pills — A  Murder  Case  in  Mississippi — Kicking  a 
Yankee — A  "  Down-East"  Original — Somebody  in  my  Bed — A  Day  at  Sol.  Slice's — 
Cupping  on  the  Starnum — A  Bear  Story — Playing  Poker  in  Arkansas — Ac.,  &c.  Com- 
plete in  one  volume.  Price  50  cents. 

"It  if  illustrated  with  original  engravings  from  designs  by  Darley.  The 'Quarter 
Race  in  Kentucky'  is  one  of  the  best  stories  that  was  ever  penned,  and  the  volume  con- 
tains a  number  of  others,  that  have  from  time  to  time  appeared  in  the  Spirit  of  the 
Times,  which  are  hard  to  beat." — TV.  0.  Picayune. 

The  Rival  Belles.  By  J.  B.  Jones,  author  of  "  Wild  Western  Scenes,"  etc.  This 
is  a  very  humorous  and  entertaining  work,  and  one  that  will  be  recommended  by  all 
after  reading  it  It  is  a  mirth-provoking  work,  and  well  calculated  to  enliven  an 
evening  and  put  to  flight  ennui,  melancholy,  and  all  the  gloomy  humors'  flesh  is  heir 
to.'  It  is  a  fit  companion  for  the  two  previous  works.  Complete  in  one  volume. 
Price  50  cents. 

Life  and  Adventures  of  Col.  Vanderbom'b,  and  tne  Exploits 
«f  his  Private  Secretary.  By  J.  B.  Jones,  author  of  " The  Rival  Belles," 
"  Wild  Western  Scenes,"  etc.  This  book  will  make  your  sides  ache  and  split  to  read 
it,  and  persons  of  weak  nerves  should  not  peruse  it,  for  it  is  only  suitable  for  per- 
sons of  strong  constitution,  so  great  is  the  humor.  There  is  enough  fun  in  it  to 
spice  a  Magazine  for  a  twelve-month.  Complete  in  one  volume.  Price  50  cents. 

The  Life  and  Adventures  of  Perclval  Maberry.  Written  by  Him- 
self. It  will  interest  and  please  everybody.  It  is  a  delightful  book,  and  a  well  writ- 
ten story  of  adventure,  an  agreeable  and  interesting  work — a  novelty  in  its  way,  and 
full  to  overflowing  with  curious  and  absorbing  events.  It  is  tull  of  incident  and  ad 
venture,  while  Maberry  himself  is  exceedingly  well  drawn.  Those  who  read  the  first 
chapter  will  not  lay  it  down  until  the  story  is  mastered  entire.  Complete  in  one 
volume.  All  who  enjoy  a  good  laugh,  should  get  it  at  once.  Price  60  cents. 

Yankee  "Yarns  and  Yankee  Letters.  By  Sam  Slick,  alias  Judge  Hali- 
burton.  Full  of  the  drollest  humor  that  has  ever  emanated  from  the  pen  of  any 
author.  A  collection  of  humorous  stories,  varns  and  letters,  well  calculated  to  pro- 
voke laughter.  We  advise  the  immediate  purchase  of  the  book,  and  but  a  temper- 
ate use  of  it — one  story  at  a  sitting  will  be  sufficient;  a  greater  indulgence  might 
result  seriously.  Every  page  will  set  you  iu  a  roar.  Complete  in  one  volume.  Price 
50  cents. 

The  Attache;  or  Sam  Slick  In  England.— By  Judge  Haliburton,  au- 
thor of  "  Yankee  Yarns  and  Yankee  Letters,"  etc.  This  is,  of  course,  quite  full  of 
fun — '  all  forts'  of  fun  ;  and  those  who  want  a  good  laugh,  should  get  it  at  once. 
Complete  in  one  volume. 


T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS.     11 

Works  of  Buhver,  James,  and  others,  at  25  cents. 

Falkland.    A  Novel.   By  Sir  E.  L.  Bulwer,  author  of  "  The  Roue,"  "  Oxonians,"  etc. 
One  volume,  octavo.     Price  25  cents. 

T  lit- Roue:  or  the  Hazards  of  Women.    By  Sir  E.  L.  Bulwer.  Price  25  ots. 

The  Oxonians.    By  Sir  E.  L.  Bulwer.   Author  of  "Last  of  the  Barons."  A  Sequel 
to  the  Koue,    I'rice  25  cents. 

Arrah    Nell.    A  NoveL  By  G.  P.  R.  James,  author  of  "Richelieu,"  etc.  Price  50cts. 

Eva  St.  Clalr  ;   and  other  Collected   Tales.    By  O.  P.  R.  Junes,  Lsq, 
author  of  "  Richelieu."    Price  25  ceuts. 

The    Pioneer's    Daughter.    By  Emerson  Bennett,  author  of  "The  Prairie 
Flower."     Price  50  ceuts. 

Agnes  Grey;    an  Autobiography.    By  the  Author  of  "Jane  Eyre,"  "Shir- 
ley," etc.    Price  25  cents. 

The  Valley  Farm;  or,  the  Autobiography  of  an  Orphan.  A  com- 
panion to  Jane  Ky  re.     Price  25  cents. 

The  Fortune  Hunter,  by  Mrs.  Anna  Cora  Mowatt.   (Her  last.)   Price  3S  cents. 

Gentleman's   Science   of  Etiquette,  and  Guide   to   Society.    By 

Count  Alfred  D'Orsay.     Price  25  cents. 

Ladles' Science  of  Etiquette.  By  Countess  de  Calabrella,  with  her  full  length 
portrait.    Price  25  cents. 

Grace  Dudley;  or  Arnold  at  Saratoga.    By  Charles  J.  Peterson.    Illus- 
trated.   Price  25  cents. 

Ella  Stratford)   or  the  Orphan  Child.    By  the  CountoM of  Blesaington. 
Price  25  cents. 

Ghost  Stories.    Full  of  Illustrations.    Being  a  Wonderful  Book.    Price  25  cents. 

The  Admiral's  Daughter.    By  Mrs.  Marsh,  author  of  "  Ravenscliffe."    One 
volume,  octavo.    Price  25  cents. 

The  Monk.     A  Romance.  By  Matthew  G.  Lewis,  Esq.,  M.P.  All  should  read  it  25cts. 

The  Dark  Lady  of  Doona.    By  W.  II.  Maxwell,  author  of  "  Wild  Sports  in  the 
West."     Price  25  ceuts. 

Rody  the  Rovers  or  the  Ribbon  man.    An  Irish  Tale.  By  William  Carle- 
ton.    One  volume,  octavo.    Price  25  cents. 

The  Diary  of  a  Physician.    Second  Series.  By  S.  C.  Warren,  author  of  "Ten 

Thousand  a  Year."     Illustrated.   'I'rice  25  cents. 
Abednego,  the  Money  Lender.    By  Mrs.  (lore.    Price  25  cents. 

Madison's   Exposition  of  the  Awful  Ceremonies  of  Odd   Fel- 

lowslilp,  with  -U  plates.    Price  25  cents. 

Gliddon's    Ancient    Egypt,    her    Monuments,    Hieroglyphics, 
History,  etc.     Full  of  plates.     Price  25  cunts. 

The  Family  Physician  ;  or  the  True  Art  of  Healing  the  Sick. 

By  Dr.  Hollick     Price  25  cents. 

Father  Clement.     By  Grace  Eennady,  Author  of  "Dunallen."  "Abbey  of  Innis- 
moyle,"  etc.     Price  50  rents. 

The  Abbey  of  Innismoyle.  By  Grace  Eennady,  author  of  "  Father  Clement" 
Price  25  cents 

The  Insiiared;  a  Story  of  the  Heart.    By  Lady  Charlotte  Bury.    25cta. 

The    Beautiful   French   Girl;  or  the  Daughter  of  Monsieur  Fontanbteu. 
Price  25  cents. 

The    Mysteries    of    Bedlam;    or    Annals    of   the    London    Mad 

II ii use.     Price  25  cents. 


12       T.  B.  PETERSON'S  LIST  OF  PUBLICATIONS. 
MRS.  SOUTHWORTH'S  CELEBRATED  WORKS. 

The  Lost  Heiress.  By  MRS.  EMMA  D.  E.  N.  SOUTHWORTH.  Being  a  Splendid 
Picture  of  American  Life.  Everybody  admiring  and  applauding  it  as  a  master  pro- 
duction. The  I/ost  Heiress  is  a  work  of  powerful  interest.  It  is  embellished  with  a 
beautiful  1'ortrait  and  Autograph  of  the  author.  Complete  in  two  TO!S..  paper  cover. 
Price  One  Dollar:  or  In  one  volume,  cloth,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-Five  cents. 

The  Wife's  Victory;  and  Nine  other  Nouvellettes.  By  MRS. 
V.'UMA  D.  E.  N.  SOUTHWORTH.  This  volume  contains,  besides  the  "  WIFE'S  VIC- 
TOR i'."  NINE  OF  THK  MOST  CELEBRATKD  NOUVELLETTKS  ever  written  by 
this  favorite  and  world-renowned  American  author,  and  it  will  prove  to  be  one  of  the 
most  popular  works  ever  issued  from  the  American  press.  Complete  in  two  volumes, 
paper  cover.  Price  Seventy-five  cents;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  One  Dollar. 

The  Curse  of  Clifton:  a  Tale  of  Expiation  and  Redemption. 
By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.  Complete  in  two  volumes  of  4ot>  pages,  printed 
en  the  finest  paper.  Price  for  the  complete  work  in  paper  cover.  Fifty  cents  a  volume ; 
or  handsomely  bound  in  cloth,  gilt,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

The  Discarded  Daughter.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.  Complete 
in  two  volumes  of  428  pages.  Price  for  the  complete  work  in  paper  cover,  One  Dollar ; 
or  handsomely  bound  in  cloth,  gilt,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents. 

The  Deserted  Wife.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.  Complete  in  two 
volumes,  paper  cover,  Price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

The  Mother-iu-Law$  or,  The  Isle  of  Rays.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N. 
Southworth.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover,  price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in 
one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

Shannondale.  By  Mrs.  Emma  D.  E.  N.  Southworth.  Complete  in  two  volumes, 
paj  er  cover,  price  One  Dollar;  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth-  for  $1.25. 

Virginia  and  Magdalene;  or,  The  Foster  Sisters.  By  Mrs  Emma 
D.  E.  .N.  Southworth.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover,  price  One  Dollar;  or 
bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  $1.25. 

EQUAL  TO  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT'S  NOVELS. 

The  Initials.  A  Love  Story  of  Modern  Life.  By  a  daughter  of  the 
celebrated  Lord  Erskine.  formerly  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  England.  This  is  a  cele- 
brated and  world-renowned  work.  It.  is  one  of  the  best  works  ever  published  in  the 
English  language,  and  will  be  read  for  generations  to  come,  and  rank  by  the  side  of  Sir 
Walter  .'coti's  celebrated  novels.  Complete  in  two  volumes,  paper  cover,  Price  On* 
Dollar:  or  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  for  One  Dollar  and  Twenty-five  cents  a  copy 

Freaks  of  Fortune  ;  or,  The  Life  and  Adventures  of  Ned  Lom. 
By  J.  15.  Joneg,  author  of  •'  Wild  Western  Scenes,"  "  Rival  Belles."  ''  Col  Vanderbomb." 
etc.  It  will  be  found  to  be  one  of  the  most  thrilling  and  entertaining  works  ever 
issued  from  the  press.  Complete  in  one  volume,  cloth.  Price  One  Dollar. 

Politics  in  Religion.    By  Rev.  Charles  Wadsworth.    Price  12%  cents. 


T.  B.  PETERSON'S  Wholesale  and  Retail  Cheap  Book,  Maga- 
zine, Newspaper,  Publishing  and  Bookselling  Establish- 
ment, is  at  No.  1O»  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia: 

From  which  place  he  will  supply  all  orders  for  any  books  at  all,  no  matter  by  whota 
published,  in  advance  of  all  others,  and  at  publishers'  lowest  cash  prices.  He  respect- 
fully invites  Country  Merchant*,  Booksellers,  Pedlars,  Canvassers,  Agent",  the  Trade, 
Strangers  in  the  City,  and  the  public  generally,  to  call  and  examine  his  extensive  col- 
lection of  all  kinds  of  publications,  where  they  will  be  sure  to  find  all  the  test,  latest, 
and  cheapest  works  published  in  this  country  or  elsewhere,  for  sale  very  low. 

He  hac  also  for  sale,  every  Book,  Cheap  Publication  and  Magazine  issued  in  thi» 
country,  and  all  other  cheap  editions  published  of  any  of  the  Foreign  authors.  Any 
work  either  new  or  old,  or  by  whom  published  or  advertised,  can  always  be  obtained  by 
sending  to  T.  B.  Peterson,  No.  102  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia,  post-paid. 

Jl&~  Agents,  Pedlars,  Canvassers,  Booksellers,  News  Agents,  Ac.,  throughout  the 
country,  who  wish  to  make  money  on  a  small  capital,  would  do  well  to  address  T.  B. 
PETERSON,  who  will  furnish  a  complete  outfit  for  a  comparatively  small  amount. 

Agents,  Postmasters,  Country  Merchants,  Pedlars,  Dealers  in  Cheap  Works,  and  all 
others,  supplied  with  anything  in  our  line,  at  publishers'  lowest  cash  prices ;  and  their 
orders  will  be  filled  at  as  low  prices,  if  not  lower,  than  at  any  other  house  in  this  Country. 


J 


HUMOROUS   AMERICAN   WORKS. 

WITH  ORIGINAL  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  BARLEY  AND  OTHERS, 
AND  BEAUTIFULLY  ILLUMINATED  COVERS, 


T.  B.  PETERSON,  NO.  102  CHESTNUT  STREET,  PHILADELPHIA, 
has  just  published  new  and  beautiful  editions  of  the  following  HUMO- 
ROUS AMERICAN  WORKS.  They  are  published  in  the  best  possible 
style,  full  of  original  Illustrations,  by  Darley,  descriptive  of  all  the  best 
scenes  in  each  work,  with  Illuminated  Covers,  with  new  and  beautiful 
designs  on  each,  and  are  printed  on  the  finest  and  best  of  white  paper. 
The  price  of  each  work  is  50  cents  only. 

THE  FOLLOWING  ARE  THE  NAMES  OF  THE  WORKS. 

Major  Jones'  Courtship:  detailed,  with  other  Scene?,  Incidents,  and  Adventures, 
iu  a  Series  of  Letters,  by  himself.  With  Thirteen  illustrations  from  designs  by  Darley. 
Price  50  cents. 

The  Drama  In  Pokerville  :  the  Bench  and  Bar  of  Jnrytown,  and  other  Stories. 
By  "  Everpoiut,"  C.I.  M.  Field,  of  the  St.  Louis  Reveille.)  With  Illustrations  from  de- 
signs by  Darley.  Price  50  cents. 

Charcoal  Sketches ;  or,  Scenes  in  the  Metropolis.  By  Joseph  C.  Neal,  author  of 
"  Peter  Ploddy,"  "  Misfortunes  of  Peter  Faber,"  etc.  With  Illustrations.  Price  50  cents. 

The  Misfortunes  of  Peter  Kaber,  and  other  Sketches.  By  the  author  of 
"  Charcoal  Sketches."  With  Illustrations  by  Darley  and  others.  Price  60  cents. 

Major  Jones'  Sketches  of  Travel,  comprising  the  Scenes.  Incidents,  and 
Adventures  in  his  Tour  from  Georgia  to  Canada.  With  Eight  Illustrations  from  de- 
signs by  Darley.  Price  50  cents. 

The  Yankee  amongst  the  Mermaids,  and  other  Waggeries  and  Vagaries. 
By  W.  E.  Burton,  Comedian.  With  Illustrations  by  Darley.  Price  60  cento. 

Streaks  of  Squatter  Liife,  and  Far  West  Scenes.  A  Series  of  Humorous  Sketches 
descriptive  of  Incidents  and  Character  in  the  Wiid  West.  By  the  author  of  ••  Major 
Jones'  Courtship."  "  Swallowing  Oysters  Alive,"  etc.  With  Illustrations  from  designs  by 
Darley.  Price  50  cents. 

A  Q,uarter  Race  In  Kentucky,  and  other  Stories.  By  W.  T. Porter, 
Esq.,  of  the  New  York  Spirit  Of  the  Times.  With  Eight  illustrations  and  designs  by 
Darley.  Complete  in  one  volume.  Price  50  cents. 

The  Adventures  of  Captain  Simon  Suggs,  late  of  the  Tallapoosa  Vo- 
lunteers, together  with  "Taking  the  Census.''  and  other  Alabama  Sketches.  By  a 
Country  Editor.  With  a  Portrait  from  Life,  and  Nine  other  illustrations  by  Darley. 
Price  50  cents. 

The  Rival  Belles.    By  J.B.Jones,  author  of  « Wild  Western  Scenes,"  etc.    This 

is  a  very  humorous  and  entertaining  work,  and  one  that  will  be  recommended  by  all  after 

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THE    INITIALS: 

A  STORY  OF  UPPERS  LIFE 

Complete  in  two  vols.,   paper   cover,  Price  One  Dollar;  or 

bound  in  one  -vol.,  cloth.    Price  One  Dollar  and 

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T.  B.  PETERSON,  NO.  102  CHESTNUT  STREET,  PHILADELPHIA, 
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Walter  Scott's  celebrated  novels. 

READ  THE  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


OHAFTER 

i.  The  Letter, 
n.  The  Initials, 
in.  A.  Z. 

iv.  A  Walk  of  no  common  De- 
scription. 
T.  An  Alp. 

vi.  Secularized  Cloisters. 
vn.  An  Excursion,  and  Return  to 
the  Secularized  Cloisters. 
vui.  An  Alpine  Party, 
ix.  Salzburg. 
x.  The  Return  to  Munich, 
xi.  The  Betrothal, 
xn.  Domestic  Details. 
XIH.  A  Truce. 

xiv.  A  New  Way  to  Learn  German, 
xv.  The  October  Fete.    A  Lesson 
on  Propriety  of  Conduct, 
xvi.  The  Au  Fair.     The  Supper, 
xvn.  Lovers'  Quarrels, 
xvin.  The  Churchyard. 
xix.  German  Soup. 
xx.  The  Warning. 
xxi.  The  Struggle. 
xxn.  The  Departure, 
xxm.  The  Long  Day. 
xxiv.  The    Christmas    Tree,    and 


CHAPTER 

xxv.  The  Garret, 
xxvi.  The  Discussion. 
xxvn.  The  Sledge. 
xxvin.  ABallattheMuseumClub. 
xxix.  A  Day  of  Freedom. 
xxx.  The  Masquerade, 
xxxi.  Where  is  the  Bridegroom  ? 
xxxn.  The  Wedding  at  Troisieme. 
xxxni.  A  Change, 
xxxiv.  The  Arrangement. 
xxxv.  The  Difficulty  Removed, 
xxxvi.  The  Iron  Works. 
xxxvu.  An   Unexpected   Meeting, 

and  its  Consequences, 
xxxvni.  The  Experiment, 
xxxix.  The  Recall. 
XL.  Hohenfels. 

XLI.  The     Scheiben-Schiessen, 
(Target  Shooting-Match.) 
XLII.  A  Discourse. 
XLIII.  Another  kind  of  Discourse. 
XLIV.  The  Journey  Home  Com- 
mences. 

XLV.  What  occurred  at  the  Hotel 
D'Angle-terre  in  Frank- 
fort. 

XLVI.  Halt! 
XLVII.  Conclusion. 


Midnight  Mass. 

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THE    ROMAN    TRAITOR; 

OR,    THE    DATS   OF 

CICERO,  CATO  AND  CATALINE. 
BY  HENRY  WILLIAM  HERBERT, 

AUTHOR  OF    "CROMWELL,"    "THE  BROTHERS,"   ETC. 

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This  is  "lie  of  the  most  powerful  Roman  stories  in  the  English  language,  am!  is  of 
itself  sufficient  to  stamp  the  writer  as  a  powerful  man.  The  dark  intrigues  of  the 
days  which  Ctesar,  Sallust,  and  Cicero  made  illustrious ;  when  Cataline  defied  ami  almost 
defeated  the  Senate;  when  the  plots  which  ultimately  overthrew  the  Roman  Kt:;'iiblic 
were  being  formed,  are  described  in  a  masterly  manner.  The  book  deserves  a  promt- 
Dent  position  by  the  side  of  the  great  Helium  Catalinarium  of  Sallust,  and,  if  we  mistake 
not,  will  not  fail  to  occupy  a  prominent  place  among  those  produced  in  America. 

BEAD  THE  FOLLOWING  OPINIONS  OF  THE  PEESS  ABOUT  IT. 

From  the  Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin,  of  September  3rd  1853. 

"  Since  the  publication  of  '  The  Last  Days  of  Pompeii,'  no  fiction  of  classic  times  ha* 
appeared  at  all  equal  to  this.  The  period  chosen  by  Mr.  Herbert  is  even  better  suited 
than  that  selected  by  Bulwer,  both  to  delineate  the  manners  of  ancient  Rome  aci  to 
enchain  the  attention  of  the  reader.  Thoroughly  conversant  with  the  age  of  which  he 
writes,  practised  as  a  moralist,  and  enthusiastic  in  his  subject,  our  author  has.  in  this 
work,  executed  his  master-piece,  and  may  well  challenge  for  it  intelligent  criticism,  as 
well  as  popular  applause.  The  character  of  Cataline,  the  hero  of  the  volume,  in  the 
sense  at  least  in  which  '  Balfour  of  Burley '  is  the  hero  of '  Old  Mortality,'  is  boldly  and 
artistically  drawn,  not  indeed  in  the  dark  colors  of  Sallust,  but  in  the  milder  tints 
which  more  Catholic  historians  have  used.  There  are  so  few  books  in  the  language 
which  the  scholar  and  ordinary  reader  can  alike  peruse  with  pleasure,  that  Mr.  Herbert 
may  fairly  consider  himself  entitled  to  the  very  highest  praise  for  his  successful  pro- 
duction, in  'The  Roman  Traitor,' of  such  a  work.  The  publisher  has  issued  the  novel  in 
a  handsome  style,  bound  in  embossed  cloth,  so  pleasant  to  all  who  love  pleasaut  book's." 

From,  the  Baltimore  Republican  and  Argui,  of  Sept.  2d,  1853. 

"  This  is  the  title  of  a  new  and  powerfully  written  ptory  from  thp  pen  of  H.  W.  Her- 
bert, which  of  itself  would  place  the  author  among  the  first  writers  of  the  day.  Mr. 
Herbert  is  already  well  known  as  an  author  of  no  common  merit,  and  this  work 
must  give  him  a  permanent  place  in  the  front  rank  of  the  literary  men  of  the  age. 
It  is  a  book  which  may  be  placed  in  the  library  of  every  man,  and  will  be  often  referred 
to  with  pleasure.  The  book  has  been  published  by  T.  B.  Peterson,  and  is  put  up  in  a 
style  suited  to  the  character  of  the  work,  and  is  altogether  an  interesting  ana  handsome 
volume." 

From  the  Philadelphia  Dollar  Newspaper,  of  Sept.  ^th,  1853. 

K  This  is  a  work  calculated  to  excite  a  lively  interest  in  literary  circles.  Roman  his- 
tory ever  has  a  charm  for  the  youthful  inquirer  after  knowledge,  and  by  keeping 
historical  facts  steadily  in  view,  the  garb  of  fiction,  without  material  detriment,  will 
greatly  add  to  the  number  of  readers.  In  the  story  which  the  author  has  woven  round 
thi-  principal  incidents  in  the  life  and  history  of  Cataline,  he  claims  to  have  adhered 
scrupulously  to  dates,  facts,  and  the  historical  characters  of  the  individuals  introduced. 
The  great  aim  of  the  author  is  to  popularize  the  incidents  of  Roman  history,  and  by 
avoiding  the  common  errors  of  writers  in  the  s.ime  field,  who  have  preceded  him,  of 
appearing  learned,  to  bring  his  matter  down  to  the  comprehension  of  the  mass  of  the 
reading  public.  He  has  aimed  less  at  portraying  Greeks  and  Romans,  than  at  depicting 
men — assuming  that  in  all  ages  'the  human  heart  is  still  the  human  heart,  convulsed 
by  the  same  passions,  chilled  by  the  same  griefs,  burning  with  the  same  joys,  and,  in 
the  main,  actuated  by  the  same  hopes  and  fears.'  " 

Price  for  the  complete  work,  in  two  volumes,  in  paper  cover,  One  Dollar  only ;  or  a 
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to  the  publisher,  in  a  letter,  post-paid.  Published  and  for  sale  by 

T.  B.  PS'IERSON, 
X    .  103  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia 


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SOURCES,  and  of  the  most  AUTHENTIC  CHARACTER.  The  compiler  has  embodied  more 
useful  information  than  may  be  found  in  any  volume  of  the  same  size  that  has  ever  been  issued 
from  the  American  press.  THE  PRICE  is  exceedingly  reasonable." — Pennsylvania  Inquirer 
and  Daily  Courier. 

"  We  have  never  seen  a  volume  embracing  any  thing  like  the  same  quantity  of  useful  mat- 
ter. The  work  is  really  a  treasure,  and  should  speedily  find  its  way  into  every  family." — 
Saturday  Chronicle,  (Hon.  B.  Matthias,  President  Senate  Pennsylvania.) 

The  New  Edition  published  since  the  foregoing  notices  were  made,  contains  double  the  num- 
ber of  pages,  and  is  beyond  all  question,  the  most  comprehensive  and  valuable  work  of  the 
kind  ever  published. 

Among  the  new  additions  are — 1.  Catalogue  of  Useful  Things.  2.  Commercial  Numbers. 
3.  New  Postage  Law.  4.  Statistics  of  United  States,  Navy,  Army,  Debts  of  the  several  States, 
Ac.  6.  Each  of  the  State  Capitols,  Time  of  holding  Elections,  Meeting  of  Legislatures,  Ac. 
6.  British  Possessions.  7.  Consuls  of  U.  States  W>r  1850,  and  each  preceding  Census.  8  Select 
Bible  Passages,  and  Religious  sentiments  of  each  President  of  the  United  States.  9.  The  Sab- 
bath Convention  Address.  10.  Extensive  Mint  Tables,  of  Gold  and  Silver  Coins  of  all  Nations. 
11.  Distances  and  Directions  of  Principal  Places  on  the  Globe.  12.  Weights  and  Measures. 
13.  Universal  Time  Table.  14.  Coat  of  Arms,  Ac.,  of  thirteen  original  States.  IS.  Statistics 
and  Flags  of  the  prujcipal  Nations  of  the  East.  16.  Chrystal  Palace,  Maps,  Public  Kclifices, 
Portraits,  Ac.,  Ac.,  sc. 

It  also  contains  a  large  tnd  entirely  new  Map  of  the  United  States,  which  is  of  itself  worth 
the  price  of  the  book. 

It  is  published  complete  in  one  volume,  handsomely  bound,  with  full-page  Illustrations  and 
Portraits  of  all  the  Presidents  of  the  United  States,  from  Washington  until  the  present  time, 
executed  in  the  finest  style  of  the  art. 

A  copy  of  the  work  will  be  sent  to  any  person,  to  any  place  in  the  United  States,  free  of 
postage,  on  their  remitting  50  cents  to  the  Publisher,  in  a  letter,  poet-paid,  or  Two  copies  will 
be  sent,/re«  of  postage,  for  One  Dollar. 

Published  and  for  sale  by 

T.  B.  PETERSON, 

21  No.  102  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 


OR, 


ON    AND    OFF    SOUNDINGS, 


A  NEW  AND   EXaUISITELY  ORIGINAL   WORK. 

Have  you  read  it?    If  not,  then  do  so. 
Price  Fifty  Cents  in  Paper ;  or  Seventy  Five  Cents  in  Cloth. 

Wild  Oats  Sown  Abroad  is  a  splendid  work.  It  is  the  Private  Journal 
of  a  Gentleman  of  Leisure  and  Education,  and  of  a  highly  cultivated  mind, 
in  making  the  Tour'of  Europe.  It  is  having  a  sale  unprecedented  in  the 
annals  of  literature,  for  nothing  equal  to  it  in  spiciness,  vivacity,  and  real 
scenes  and  observations  in  daily  travel,  has  ever  appeared  from  the  press. 

TABLE    OF   CONTENTS    OF   THIS    EXTRAORDINARY   WORK. 

Opening  the  Journal.  A  View  in  Lyons.  Abelard  and  Heloise. 

Adventure  in  search  of  Ruin.  Avignon  —  Petrarch   and    Scenes  on  the  Road. 
Parting  Tribute  to  Love.  Laura. 

Three  Desperate  Days!  Our  First  Ruin. 


The  "  Tug  of  War." 

"  There  they  are,  by  Jove !" 


The  Poetry  of  Sea-Sickness.  The  Unconscious  Blessing.     The  Raven-Haired  One! 


Heaven  and  Hell ! 

The  "  Hamlet"  of  Sculpture. 

The  Modern  Susannah. 


The  Red  Flannel  Night-Cap.  A  Crash  and  a  Wreck. 

A  Ship  by  Moonlight.  The  Railroad  of  Life. 

Arrival  in  London.  A  Night  Adventure. 

The  Parks  of  London.  "  The  Gods    take    care    of    Hey,  Presto !  Change  1 

Poet's  Corner,  Westminster      Cato."  The  Death  Scene    of  Cleo- 

Abbey.  The  Triumphs  of  Neptune.       patra. 

England's  Monuments.  The  Marquisi's  Foot.  An  Eulogy  on  Tuscany. 

Madame    Tussaud's    Wax    Beauties  of  Naples  Bay.          A  Real  Claude  Sunset 

Works.  Natural  History  of  the  Laz-  Tasso  and  Byron. 

The  "Beauties"  of   Hamp-      zaroni.  The  Shook  ing  Team  1 

ton  Court.  The  True  Venus.  Floatings  in  Venice. 

Love  and  Philosophy.  Love  and  Devotion.  The  Venetian  Girls. 

"  Love's  Labor  Lost."  The  .Mortality  of  Pompeii.      The  Bell-Crowned  Hat! 

A  Peep  at  "  The  Shades."       Procession  of  the  Hnst. 
The  Modern  "  Aspasia."          The  Ascent  of  Vesuvius. 
Noble  Plea  for  Matrimony.    The  Mountain  Emetic. 
The  Lily  on  the  Shore.  The  Human  Projectile. 

English  Mother  and  Ameri-  The  City  of  the  Soul. 

can  Daughter.  The  Coup  de  Main. 

The  "  Maid  of  Normandie."    Night  in  the  Coliseum ! 


An  Effecting  i-cene. 
"  Paris  est  un  Artist." 
The  Guillotine. 
"Give  us  Another!" 
Post  Mortom  Refleetions. 
Fashionable  Criticism. 


Catholicity  Considere  1. 
Power  Passing  Awny  ! 
Byron  Among  the  Ruins. 
A  Gossip  with  the  Artiste. 
Speaking  Gems. 
"  Weep  for  Adonic !" 


Whiskey  Punch  and  Logic.    The  Lady  and  the  God. 


The  "  Lion's  Mouth." 
The  "  Bridge  of  Sighs  1" 
A  Subterranean  Fete ! 
Byron  and  Moore  in  Venice. 
Diana  and  Kndymion. 
The  I'inch  of  Snuff. 
The  Rock -Crystal  Coffin! 
Eccentricity  of  Art. 
Thoughts  in  a  Monastery. 
The  Lake  of  Como. 
Immortal    Drummer  Boy. 
Wit.  and  its  Reward ! 
The  Cold  Bath. 
"  Here  we  are !" 


' Sbylock  asks  for  Justice!"  The  Science  of  Psalmistry.     The  Mountain  Expose. 


"  Lorette"  and  "  Qrisette." 

Kissing  Day. 

The  Tattoo. 

Tha  Masked  Ball. 

The  Incognita. 

The  Charms  of  Paris. 

Changing  Horses. 


The    '•  Last    Rose  of  Sum- 
mer." 


"  Sour  Grapes." 

A  Ramble  about  Tiroli. 

Illumination  of  St.  Peter's.  Waking  the  Echoes. 

The  "  Niobe  of  Nations."         Watering  the  Avalanche. 

A  Ghostly  Scene!  A  Beautiful  Incident. 

"  Honi  soit  qui  mal  y  pense."  A  Shot  with  the  Long  Bow. 

A  "Ball"  without  Music.        Mt.  lilanc  and  a  full  stop. 


Price  for  the  complete  work,  in  paper  cover,  Fifty  cents  a  copy  only ;  or 
handsomely  bound  in  muslin,  gilt,  for  Seventy-Five  cents. 

Copies  of  either  edition  of  the  work  will  be  sent  to  any  person  at  all,  to 
any  part  of  the  United  States,  free  of,  postage,  on  their  remitting  the  price 
of  the  edition  they  wish,  to  the  publisher,  in  a  letter,  post  paid. 

Published-and  for  Sale  by  T.     B.     PETERSON, 

is  A'o.  1O2  Chestnut  .Street,  Philadelphia. 


KATE   AYLESFORD 

BY  CHARLES  J.  PETERSON. 

Complete  in  rue  large  •  olnme,  neatly  bound  in  cloth,  for  One  Dollar 

and  Twenty-live  C  cirs;  or  another  edition,  in  two 

volumes,  paper  cover,  for  One  D.;llar. 


T.  B.  PETERSON,  NO.  102  CHESTNUT  STREET,  PHILADELPHIA,  takes  pleasure  in 
presenting  to  the  public  what  be  believes  to  be  the  best  historical  novel  ever  written  in 
America.  It  is  not  only  a  true  tale  of  the  time  that  "  tried  men's  souls,"  not  only  a 
faithful  picture  of  the  manners  of  '7(5,  but  one  of  the  most  thrilling,  powerful  and  absorb- 
ing stories  ever  penned.  This  is  the  opinion  of  the  best  and  most  impartial  editors  and 
critics.  In  proof  of  this  he  quotes  the  following  notices. 

OPINIONS   OF   THE   PRESS. 

"Tn  the  skilful  management  of  plot  and  vividness  of  description.  Mr.  Peterson  has  never 
had  a  superior  in  American  literature.  The  description  of  the  shipwreck  and  the  rescue  of 
the  heroine,  are  strikingly  fine.  So  are  the  whole  series  of  chapters,  beginning  with  her 
abduction  and  terminating  with  the  death-shot  so  opportunely  fired  by  '  Uncle  Lawrence.' 
The  death-bed  of  Aylesford  is  a  powerful  picture.  The  Sunday  at  the  Sweetwatcr  church, 
in  a  different  line,  is  equally  good.  The  delineation  of  the  heroine,  as  one  of  our  cotem- 
poraries  has  said,  shows  that  Mr.  Peterson  succeeds  where  Cooper  failed — that  is,  in  the 
life-like  portraiture  of  female  character.  Kate  seems  a  real  personage — such  a  brave,  high- 
spirited,  generous,  warm-hearted,  frank,  womanly  creature  as  she  is,  it  is  impossible  not 
to  admire  her." — North  American  and  V.  S.  Gazelle. 

"  Very  far  superior  to  the  much  Ix'puffed  popular  literature  of  the  present  day.  It  is 
equal,  although  conceived  in  a  different  style,  to  the  historical  tales  of  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
and  it  possesses  that  great  perfection  in  a  novel,  of  which  Goldsmith's  '  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field,"  and  Bulwer's  '  Caxtons,'  and  '  My  Novel,'  are  examples,  viz.,  that  there  is  not  a 
page,  perhaps  not  a  line,  that  can  be  erased  without  detracting  from  the  beauty  of  the 
work.  Mr.  Peterson  has  very  nearly  reached  the  utmost  perfection  of  prose  fiction." — 
Jfew  York  IHspatch. 

''  Mr.  Peterson,  it  is  well  known,  has  extraordinary  powers  of  description,  enabling  him 
to  place  a  scene  before  the  mind  almost  as  if  it  were  upon  canvas.  Besides  this,  he  under- 
stands thoroughly  the  art  of  making  a  great  variety  of  actors  and  influences  converge 
upon  a  single  point,  until,  like  the  focus  of  a  burning  lens,  the  inteiest  of  the  action  be- 
comes intense,  almost  intolerable.  The  scenes  connected  with  the  escape  of  Kate  Aylesford 
from  the  hut  of  the  brigands,  may  be  mentioned  in  illustration.  They  would  compare  fa- 
vorably wi'.h  the  famous  castle  siege  of  Ivauhoe,  the  most  concentrated  in  its  action  and 
plot  of  all  of  Seoti's  novels.  Mr.  Peterson,  furthermore,  eschews  the  discursive,  ambula- 
tory style  of  narrative,  nowso  fashionable  in  works  of  fiction,  and,  like  some  of  the  earlier 
novelists,  urges  forward  incessantly  the  action  of  the  plot.  From  the  shipwreck  of  Kate 
in  the  opening  scene,  to  the  death  of  the  blood-hound,  and  of  his  more  inhuman  master, 
the  monster  Arrison,  there  is  literally  no  let  up.  The  action  moves  forward  as  steadily 
and  remorselessly,  as  the  ill-fated  bark  once  drawn  within  the  rapids  of  Niagara.  The 
story  is  entirely  objective  in  its  character,  full  of  overt  acts  and  incidents  and  hair-breadth 
escapes,  and  actual  struggles  for  life  and  limb,  instead  of  a  mere  fight  of  contending  pas- 
sions. It  is  a  story  of  the  outward,  rather  than  of  the  inward,  in  human  life.  It  deals, 
not  with  the  internal  workings  of  the  soul,  but  with  the  actual  realities  of  the  external 
world — a  fearful  shipwreck,  with  whose  horrors  our  Jersey  coast  is  but  too  familiar — a 
fire  in  the  pines,  whose  frightful  ravages  once  wen  can  never  be  discharged  from  the  me- 
mory— stirring  scenes  of  battle  and  bloodshed  between  the  '  continentals'  and  '  red-coats' — 
all  giving  us  the  'very  form  and  pressure  of  the  time — that  tried  men's  souls.'  " — Sat.  Courier. 

Price  for  the  complete  work,  in  two  volumes  in  paper  cover,  One  Dollar  only;  or  another 
edition,  handsomely  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  gilt,  i«  published  for  One  Dollar  and 
Twenty-Five  Cents. 

Copies  of  either  edition  of  the  work  will  be  sent  to  any  person,  to  any  par?  of  the  United 
States,  free  of  postage,  on  their  remitting  the  price  of  the  edition  they  may  wish,  to  the 
publisher,  in  a  letter,  post-paid. 

Published  and  for  sale  by  T.    B.    PETERSON, 

_\o.  103  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 


A  NEW  COOK  BOOK,  BY  MISS  LESLIE,  FOR  THE  MILLION, 
MISS     LESLIE'S 

"NEW  RECEIPTS  FOR  COOKING/1 

T.  B.  PETERSON,  NO.  102  CHESTNUT  STREET,  PHILADELPHIA,  has  just  pub- 
lished MISS  LESLIE'S  "  NEW  RECEIPTS  FOR  COOKING."  It  comprises  new  and 
approved  methods  of  preparing  all  kinds  of  soups,  fish,  oysters,  terrapins,  turtle,  vegeta- 
bles, meats,  poultry,  game,  sauces,  pickles,  sweet  meats,  cakes,  pies,  puddings,  confec- 
tionary, rice,  indian  meal  preparations  of  all  kinds,  domestic  liquors,  perfumery,  remedies, 
laundry  work,  needle-work,  washing  thread  laces  of  all  kinds,  to  make  them  look  equal 
to  new,  preserving  autumn  leaves,  Chinese  embroidery,  letters,  additional  receipts,  etc. 
Also,  list  of  all  articles  in  season  suited  to  go  together  for  breakfasts,  dinners  and 
suppers,  to  suit  large  or  small  families,  and  much  useful  information  ai-J  many  miscel- 
laneous subjects  connected  with  general  housewifery. 

This  work  will  have  a  very  extensive  sale,  and  many  thousand  copies  wiil  be  sold,  as  all 
persons  that  have  had  Miss  Leslie's  former  book,  entitled  "  Direction*  for  Cookery," 
fhould  get  this  at  once,  as  att  the  receipts  in  this  book  are  new,  and  have  been  fully  tried 
and  tested  by  the  author  since  the  publication  of  her  former  book,  and  none  of  them 
whatever  are  contained  in  any  other  work  but  this.  It  is  the  best,  and  most  complete  Cook 
Book  published  in  the  world,  as  in  addition  to  Cookery,  of  all  kinds  and  descriptions,  iU 
receipts  for  making  cakes  and  confectionary  are  unequalled  by  any  other  work  extant. 

It  is  an  elegantly  printed  duodecimo  volume  of  520  pages ;  and  in  it  there  will  be  found 
One  Thousand  and  Eleven  new  Receipts — all  useful — some  ornamental — and  all  invalu- 
able to  every  lady,  miss,  or  family  in  the  world.  Price  One  Dollar  a  copy  only. 

Misg  Leslie  in  the  preface,  says:  "  A  large  number  of  th»se  new  receipts  have  been 
"obtained  from  the  South,  and  from  ladies  noted  for  their  skill  in  housewifery.  Mauy 
"  were  dictated  by  colored  cookr,,  of  high  reputation  in  the  art.  for  which  nature  seems 
"  to  have  ffifted  that  race  with  a  peculiar  capability.  Some  very  fine  receipts  in  this  col- 
"  lection  are  of  French  origin.  Their  titles  are  translated  into  our  own  language.  **  * 
"  The  corn  meal  preparations  will  be  found  unusually  good,  as  full  directions  are  given 
"  for  every  method  in  whvh  this  most  valuable  and  cheap  staple  can  be  prepared;  and 
"  particularly  that  for  l-.idian  Mush,  an  article,  which,  simple  as  it  is,  in  seldom  made 
"  properly,  or  rather  wholesomely. 

"  Sir.«v  the  first  app-arnnce  of  my  flr.«t  book  of '  DIRECTION?  FOR  COOKING.'  T  have 
"  obtained  new  and  'resh  accessions  of  valuable  knowledge,  and  new  receipts  for  cooking 
"  not  embraced  in  my  former  book,  connected  with  the  domestic  improvement  of  my 
"  country  women,  all  of  which  I  have  been  careful  to  note  down,  as  they  presented  them- 
"  selves,  and  to  carefully  try  and  have  them  fully  tested,  and  have  now  given  them  all 
"in  this  'NFW  RECKI1TS  FOR  COOKING'— minutely  explaining  them  in  language 
"  intelligible  to  all  persons.  All  I  auk,  is,  that  these  new  receipts  may  be  fairly  aud 
"  faithfully  tried,  and  I  trust  that  no  disappointment  will  happen  in  the  result." 

A  very  importantfrature  in  MISS  LESLIES  "NEW  RECEIPTS  FOR  COOKING," 
will  be  found  in  the  list  of  articles  in  season,  which  are  suited  together  for  Breakfasts, 
Dinners,  Suppers.  Ac.  In  it  will  be  found  popular  and  useful  suggestions, — of  immense 
value  in  every  household,  adding  greatly  to  its  convenience,  its  comfort  and  economy. 

Among  its  new  and  valuable  receipts  will  be  found  one  for  preserving  "Autumn 
Leiivet"  which  will  be  greatly  admired  for  the  brightness,  richness  and  variety  of  their 
tints,  for  our  fair  Ladies  to  form  into  beautiful  wreaths  for  the  hair,  or  trimmings  for 
party  and  ball  dresses,  or  for  adorning/and  ornamenting  picture  frames,  looking  glasses, 
etc.  They  are  an  admirable  study  for  amateurs  in  painting.  One  for  Chinese  Embroi- 
dery, by  which  any  person  can  learn  to  do  embroidery,  similar  and  equal  to  the  finest 
Canton  Crape  Shawls,  being  embroidered  on  both  sides,  and  both  sides  being  alike. 

A  copy  of  this  new,  popular  and  celebrated  Cook  Book,  entitled  MISS  LESLIE' 
•NEW  RECEIPTS  FOR  COOKING,"  will  be  sent  to  any  person  at  all,  by  return  of 
mail,  free  of  postage,  on  their  remitting  One  Dollar  to  the  publisher,  in  a  letter,  post-paid. 
Published  and  for  Sale  by  T.    B.    PETERSON, 

13  No.  102  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 


THE 


BY   EMERSON   BENNETT, 

AUTHOR  OF  "  CLARA  MORELAND,"  "  VIOLA,"  "  PIONEER'S  DAUGHTER,"  ETC. 

TUTS  CKLKBRATED  AND  BEAUTIFUL  WORK  is  published  complete  in  one  large 
volume,  of  over  300  pages,  paper  cover,  price  FIFTY  CENTS;  or  the  work  is  handsomely 
bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  gilt,  price  ONE  DOLLAR. 

ONE  HUNDRED  THOUSAND  COPIES  OF  THE  FORGED  WILL!  will  be  Bold  in 
a  short  time,  and  it  will  have  a  run  and  popularity  second  only  to  Uncle  Tom  g  Cabin. 
The  I'n-ss  everywhere  are  unanimous  in  its  praise,  as  being  one  of  the  most  powerfully 
written  works  in  the  language. 

THE  FORGED  WILL  is  truly  a  celebrated  work.  It  has  been  running  through 
the  columns  of  the  Philadelphia  Dollar  Newspaper,  where  it  has  been  appearing  for  ten 
weeks,  and  has  proved  itself  to  be  one  of  the  most  popular  nouvelettes  that  has  ever 
appeared  in  the  columns  of  any  newspaper  in  this  country.  Before  the  fourth  paper  ap- 
peared, the  hack  numbers,  (although  several  thousand  extra  of  the  three  former  numbers 
were  printed,)  could  not  be  obtained  at  any  price,  and  the  publishers  of  the  paper 
were  forced  to  issue  a  Supplement  sheet  of  the  first  three  papers  of  it,  for  new  subscribers 
to  their  paper,  which  induced  the  publisher  to  make  an  arrangement  with  the  popular 
author  to  bring  it  out  in  a  beautiful  style  for  the  thousands  that  wish  it  in  book  form. 

If  Emerson  Bennett  had  never  written  his  many  delightful  and  thrilling  stories  of 
border  life,  of  prairie  scenes,  and  Indian  warfare,  this  new  story  of  the  '  FORGED  WILL' 
would  have  placed  his  name  on  the  record  as  one  of  the  best  of  American  novelists.  The 
scenes,  principally,  of  this  most  captivating  novel,  are  laid  in  the  city  of  New  Yoik  ;  and 
most  glowingly  the  author  pictures  to  us  how  the  guilty  may,  for  a  time,  escape  the 
justice  of  the  law,  but  only  to  feel  the  heavy  hand  of  retribution  sooner  or  later  ;  how 
vice  may.  for  a  time,  triumpn  over  virtue,  but  only  for  a  time  ;  how  crime  may  lie  con- 
cealed, until  its  very  security  breeds  exposure  ;  how  true  virtue  gives  way  to  no  temp- 
tation, but  bears  the  ills  of  life  with  patience,  hoping  for  a  better  day,  and  rejoices 
triumphant  in  the  end.  In  short,  from  base  hypocrisy  he  tears  the  veil  that  hides  its 
huge  deformity,  and  gives  a  true  picture  of  life  as  it  exists  in  the  crowded  city.  We  do 
cordially  recommend  this  book  for  its  excellent  moral.  It  is  one  that  should  be  circulated, 
for  it  must  do  good. 

Price  for  the  complete  work,  in  one  volume,  in  paper  cover,  Fifty  Cents  only  ;  or  a 
finer  edition,  printed  on  thicker  and  better  paper,  and  handsomely  bound  in  one  volume, 
muslin,  gilt,  is  published  for  One  Dollar. 

T.  B.  PETERSON  also  publishes  the  following  works  by  Emerson  Bennett,  either  or 
all  of  which  will  be  sent  by  mail,  free  of  postage,  to  any  one,  on  receipt  of  the  prices 
annexed  to  them.  All  should  send  for  one  or  more  of  them  at  once.  No  one  will  ever 
regret  the  money  sent. 

CLARA  MOREL  AN  O  ;  or,  Adventures  in  the  Far  South-West.  By  Emerson 
Bennett,  author  of  the  "The  Forged  Will,"  "Viola,"  etc.  This  has  proved  to  be  one 
of  the  most  popular  and  powerful  nouvelettes  ever  written  in  America,  336  pages.  Price 
Fifty  Cents  in  paper  covers,  or  ONE  DOLLAR  in  cloth,  gilt. 

THE  PIONEER'S  DAUGHTER.   By  Emerson  Bennett,  author  of  "Clar» 
lion-land,"   '•  Forged  Will,"  etc.     Price  60  cents. 
WAL.DE-WARREN,  a  Tale  of  Circumstantial  Evidence.    By  Emerson  Ben- 

nett, author  of  "  Viola,"  "  Pioneer's  Daughter,"  etc.     Price  25  cents. 

VlOii  A  ;  or,  Adventures  in  the  Far  South-West.  By  Emerson  Bennett,  sutlior  of 
"The  Pioneer's  Daughter,"  "  Walde-  Warren,"  etc.  Price  50  cents. 

Copies  of  either  edition  o'  the  above  works  will  be  sent  to  any  person  at  all,  to  any 
part  of  the  United  States,  free  of  postage,  on  their  remitting  the  price  of  the  edition  they 
wish,  to  the  publisher,  in  a  letter,  post  paid.  Published  and  for  Sale  by 

T.  B.  PETERSOW, 
14  No.  103  Chestnut  Street,  Pliil  ;><!,  I  >  I.  la. 


d  the  Notices  of  the  Press  below. 


BY    EMERSON    BENNETT. 

Price  Fifty  Cents  in  Paper  Cover ;  or,  One  Dollar  in  Cloth,  Gilt 


EEAD  THE  FOLLOWING  OPINIONS  OF  THE  PKESS. 

"  This  novelet,  the  successive  chapters  of  which  our  renders  have  perused  with  so  much 
interest  during  the  last  three  months,  has  been  published  in  book  form,  iu  liaii.lsome 
style  by  T.  B.  Peterson,No.  102 Chestnut  St.  It  contains  a  number  of  illustrations,  de- 
signed by  Stephens,  and  engraved  by  Beeler.  It  is,  in  our  opinion,  the  best  production 
of  its  popular  author.  We  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  it  has  afforded  a  great  deal 
of  pleasure  to  our  readers.  It  is  a  tale  of  frontier  adventure,  told  in  a  life-like  and 
spirited  manner,  and  not  deficient  in  that  golden  thread  of  love  which  seems  necessary 
to  give  a  glow  and  brilliancy  to  the  pages  of  romance.  We  notice  that  the  '  Ledger'  of 
this  city,  characterizes  it  as  'a  thrilling  story  of  frontier  life,  full  of  incident.  »ud  gra- 
phically sketched.'  While  the  '  City  Item'  says,  '  it  is  the  best  of  Mr.  Bennett's  books, 
and  a  beautiful  and  thrilling  production.'  " — Saturday  Ervning  Post,  Ajril  9, 18;">3. 

"This  is  another  of  those  deeply  interesting  sketches  of  the  wild  and  dangerous  life 
of  adventurers  in  the  far-off  South-Western  portions  of  our  country.  The  cruelties  «nd 
cunning  of  savage  life  are  strongly  portrayed,  and  the  reader  is  taught  to  feel  the  bless- 
ings of  civilization  and  the  value  of  law.  It  is  from  the  pen  of  Emerson  Bennett." — 
Baltimore  Republican  and  Arffus. 

"  This  is  probably  the  most  thrilling  tale  that  has  been  published  for  some  time.  IU 
characters  are  wholly  American;  and  those  who  love  to  read  of  Indian  warfare,  Im-c*- 
nier  chivalry,  love,  murders,  plots,  escapes,  and  every  thing  that  is  good,  will  find  it 
here." — Boston  Waverly  Magazine. 

"This  exciting  story  is  published  in  a  handsome  volume,  magnificently  illustrated.'1 — 
Dodges  Boston  Literary  Museum. 

"  This  is  a  very  entertaining  American  romance,  embellished  with  a  variety  of  mag- 
nificent illustrations,  from  original  designs." — New  York  Sunday  Allot. 

"  Every  western  man  will  at  once  recognize  the  truthfulness  of  his  description  of  wild 
wood  scenery,  and  a  severe  critic  observes  that  '  his  home-like  familiarity  with  the  un- 
taught manners  and  singular  customs  of  the  Indian  tribes  of  the  far  West — his  exqui- 
site delineations  of  civilized  and  savage  character,  Ac.,  all  acknowledge  his  dominion  in 
this  field  of  literature.'  It  is  undoubtedly  the  best  work  that  Mr.  Bennett  has  yet 
written." — LouisviUt  Daily  Times. 

"  It  is  printed  on  good  paper,  with  numerous  illustrations,  and  is  a  work  of  rare 
ink-rest.  It  is  altogether  the  best  work  Mr.  Bennett  has  yet  written,  and  he  is  one  of 
the  most  popular  of  American  novelists." — Columbia,  Spy. 

" It  is  from  the  pen  of  Emerson  Bennett,  Esq.,  and  embellished  with  illustrations, 
from  original  designs  by  Stephens.  It  is  printed  on  clear  white  paper,  and  in  very  larjru 
type.  It  is  truly  a  celebrated  work.  It  has  been  running  through  the  columns  of  the 
'  Saturday  Evening  Post,'  where  it  hr«  been  appearing  for  the  last  twelve  weeks,  and 
has  proved  itself  to  be  one  of  the  most  popular  works  that  has  ever  appeared  in  the 
columns  of  any  newspaper  in  this  country.  It  is  purely  an  American  book." — Daily 
Express,  Petersburg,  \'a. 

"It  is  a  new  and  great  novel,  by  Emerson  Bennett;  it  has  334  pages,  and  is  hand- 
somely illustrated.  The  reader  will  find  it  remarkably  interesting,  and  the  illustrations 
are  very  striking." — Pittsburg  Daily  Dispatch. 

"It  is  one  of  the  iy  «t  pleasant  fictions  of  the  day,  and  finds  a  ready  appreciation 
among  the  many  adu  .'rers  of  this  gifted  American  writer.  His  descriptions  of  wild 
western  scenes,  of  the  semi-civilized  and  savage  manners  of  the  denizens  of  the  dark 
and  shadowy  \\  ilderness,  of  the  rude  and  untaught  borderers,  ns  well  as  those  of  more 
refined  habits — give  him  a  claim  to  rank  high  in  this  branch  of  literature.  Clara  More- 
land  is  beautifully  illustrated  by  original  designs." — Pittsburg  TbJten. 

"  It  is  a  novel  of  great  interest,  by  Emerson  Bennett,  embellished  with  illustrations." 
— Boston  True  Flag. 

"  It  is  a  highly  interesting  and  beautifully  illustrated  novel." — Com.  Journal,  Piitt- 
burg,  Pa. 

"  In  Clara  Moreland  we  have  an  interesting  and  beautiful  American  story,  by  a  popu- 
lar and  talented  American  author.  This  story  was  first  published  in  the  '  .Saturday 
Post,'  of  Philadelphia,  and  the  great  demand  for  it  as  itap'peared  in  successive  numbers 
of  that  sheet,  has  induced  th«  publisher  to  issue  it  in  book  form." — PitLtburg  Pott. 

Published  and  for  sale  by  T.  B.  PETERSON, 

15  No.  103  CheetAut  Street,  Philadelphia. 

|g  _.        ; 


VIOLA; 


OR, 


ADVENTURES  IN  THE  FAR  SOUTH-WEST. 


AUTHOR  OF  "CLARA  MORELAND,"  "FORGED  WILL,"  "KATE  CLARENDON," 
"  BRIDE  OF  THE  WILDERNESS,"  "  WALDE- WARREN,"  "  PIONEER'S  DAUGH- 
TER," ETC.,  ETC. 

BEAD     THE     FOLLOWING     OPINIONS     OF     THE     PRESS: 

"We  have  perused  this  work  with  some  attention,  and  do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce 
it  one  of  the  very  best  productions  of  the  talented  author.  The  scenes  are  laid  in  Texas, 
and  the  adjoining  frontier.  There  is  not  a  page  that  does  not  glow  with  thrilling  and 
interesting  incident,  and  will  well  repay  the  reader  for  the  time  occupied  in  perusing  it. 
The  characters  are  most  admirably  drawn,  and  are  perfectly  natural  throughout.  We 
have  derived  RO  much  gratification  from  the  perusal  of  this  charming  novel,  that  we  are 
anxious  to  make  our  readers  share  it  with  us;  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  recommend  it 
to  be  read  by  all  persons  who  are  fond  of  romantic  adventures.  Mr.  Bennett  is  a  spi- 
rited and  vigorous  writer,  and  his  works  deserve  to  be  generally  read ;  not  only  because 
they  are  well  written,  but  that  they  are,  in  most  part,  taken  from  events  connected 
with  the  history  of  our  own  country,  from  which  much  valuable  information  is  derived, 
and  should,  therefore,  have  adouble  claim  upon  our  preference,  over  those  works  where 
the  incidents  are  gleaned  from  the  romantic  legends  of  old  castles,  and  foreign  climes. 
The  book  is  printed  on  fine  paper,  and  is  in  every  way  got  up  in  a  style  highly  creditable 
to  the  enterprising  publisher." 

"  It  is  a  spirited  tale  of  frontier  life,  of  which  '  Clara  Moreland '  is  the  sequel  and 
conclusion.  Mr.  Bennett  seems  to  delight  in  that  field  of  action  and  adventure,  where 
Cooper  won  his  laurels ;  and  which  is  perhaps  the  most  captivating  to  the  general  mind 
of  all  the  walks  of  fiction.  There  has  been,  so  far,  we  think,  a  steady  improvement  in 
his  style  and  stories;  and  his  popularity,  a«  a  necessary  consequence,  has  been  and  is  in- 
creasing. One  great  secret  of  the  popularity  of  these  out-door  novels,  as  we  may  call 
them,  is  that  there  is  a  freshness  and  simplicity  of  the  open  air  and  natural  world  about 
them — free  from  the  closeness,  intensity  and  artificiality  of  the  gas-lighted  world  re- 
yonled  in  works  that  treat  of  the  vices  and  dissipations  of  large  cities." — Philadelphia 
Saturday  Evening  Pott. 

'•  This  is  one  of  the  best  productions  of  Mr.  Bennett.  The  scenes  are  in  and  near 
Texas.  Every  page  glows  with  thrilling  interest,  »nd  the  characters  are  well  drawn  and 
sustained.  An  interesting  love  plot  runs  through  the  book,  which  givi-s  a  faithful  re- 
presentation of  life  in  the  far  South-West.  Mr.  Peterson  has  issued  VIOLA  in  his  usual 
neat  style,  and  it  is  destined  to  have  a  great  run." — Clinton  Tribune. 

"We"  have  received  the  above  work  and  found  time  to  give  it  an  examination.  Tho 
scenes  are  laid  mostly  in  Texas,  and  pictured  with  all  the  vividness  for  which  the  au- 
thor is  so  celebrated.  Those  who  are  particularly  fond  of  wild  and  romantic  adventures 
may  safely  calculate  upou  finding  '  Viola '.suited  to  their  taste.  It  is  well  written  and 
handsomely  printed." — Daily  Journal,  Chicago,  IU. 

"It  is  a  very  interesting  book.  The  scenes  of  this  most  exciting  and  interesting  Ro- 
mance are  found  in  Texas  before  and  during  the  late  Mexican  war.  It  is  written  with 
much  spirit  and  pathos,  and  abounds  in  stirring  incidents  and  adventures,  and  has  an 
interesting  and  romantic  love  plot  interwoven  with  it;  and  is  a  faithful  representation 
of  '  Life  in  the  Far  South-West.'  The  author  of  '  VIOLA,'  will  rank  among  the  most 
popular  of  American  Novelists,  and  aided  by  the  great  energy  and  enterprise  of  his  pub- 
lisher, T.  B.  Peterson,  U  la.->t  becoming  a  general  favorite." — Gazette,  Khinebeck,  N.  1'. 

"  This  thrilling  and  interesting  novel — equal  to  anything  the  celebrated  author  ever 
wrotc — has  bpfln  issued  in  a  fifty  cent  volume;  and  we  would  advise  every  one  who 
wants  to  get  the  value  of  his  money,  to  pet  the  book.  Bennett's  works  are  the  most  in- 
teresting of  any  now  published." —  Western  Jfmporium,  Germantawn,  Ohio. 

THIS  BEAUTIFUL  AND  CELEBRATED  WORK  is  published  complete  in  one  large 
volume  of  near  BOO  pages,  paper  cover,  price  FIFTY  CENTS ;  or  the  work  is  handsomely 
bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  gilt,  price  SEVENTY-FIVE  CENTS. 

Copies  of  either  edition  of  the  above  work  will  be  sent  to  any  person  at  all,  to  any 
part  of  the  United  States,  free  of  postage,  on  their  remitting  the  price  of  the  edition  they 
wish,  to  the  publisher,  in  a  letter,  post-paid.  Published  and  for  Sale  by 

T.  B.  PKTERSOBT, 
16  No.  102  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 


BOOK  FOR   THE   WHOLE   COUNTRY.1 


G&BIK  M 


THE 

5l 


BY    J.     THORNTON     RANDOLPH. 

Complete  in  o  «  volume  of  336  pages ;  full  of  beautiful  illustrations. 
PRICE  ONE  DOLLAR  A  COPY  IN  CLOTH,  GILTj  OR  FIFTY  CENTS  IN  PAPER  COVER, 

Twenty-two  Thousand  Copies  of  this  celebrated  work  were  sold  by  Novem- 
ber 10th,  1852,  which  was  only  four  weeks  after  its  first  publication,  at  which 
time  this  advertisement  was  written,  and  the  demand  is  increasing  every 
day.  The  Press  every  where  praise  it  as  far  surpassing  Mrs.  Stowe's  far- 
*ained  work  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  Telegraphic  despatches  from  all 
quarters  of  the  "  UNION"  are  pouring  in  for  it,  and  Printers,  Steam  Presses, 
Lookbinders,  Packers,  and  all  others  are  kept  busy  at  it  to  supply  the  demand. 
Every  body  should  send  for  a  copy  and  read  it. 

"THE  CABIN  AND  PARLOR,"  is  a  book  for  the  whole  country,  and  not  for 
one  section  only.  It  is  intended  to  allay,  not  excite,  local  jealousies.  It  is 
free  from  all  bias  of  party.  Every  person  who  values  the  Constitution  framed 
by  Washington  and  his  co-patriots,  or  loves  "  truth  for  truth's  sake,"  should 
have  a  copy  of  this  work. 

The  author  is  a  gentleman  who  has  travelled  both  North  and  South,  so 
that  his  descriptions  are  both  faithful  and  accurate ;  indeed,  nearly  every 
incident  described  in  the  volume,  he  has  personally  witnessed.  The  narrative, 
though  thus  substantially  true,  is  as  thrilling  as  the  most  engrossing  novel. 
Never,  perhaps,  has  a  book  so  interesting  in  every  respect,  been  offered  to  the 
American  public. 

The  spirit  of  enlarged  philanthrophy  which  pervades  the  book,  is  not  :'ts 
least  recommendation.  The  author  is  a  true  nnd  wise  friend  of  his  race,  and 
not  a  quack  in  morals,  as  so  many  modern  writers  are.  His  religion  is  that 
of  the  Bible,  ani  not  mere  varnished  infidelity. 

Price  for  the  complete  work,  in  paper  cover,  beautifully  illustrated,  Fifty 
cents  a  copy  only ;  or  a  finer  edition,  printed  on  thicker  and  better  paper, 
and  handsomely  bound  in  muslin,  gilt,  iw  published  for  One  Dollar. 

Copies  of  either  edition  of  the  work  will  be  sent  to  any  person  at  all,  to 
any  part  of  the  United  States,  free  of  postage,  on  their  remitting  the  price  of 
the  edition  they  wish,  to  the  publisher,'  in  a  letter,  post-paid. 

Published  and  for  sale  by  T.  B.  PETERSON, 

20  No.  lOii  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 


&3f  Head  the  following  pages,  containing  editorial  notices  of 


Complete  in   «vio    vois.,   paper    cover,   Price  One  Dr.llar;  or 
l)onu«l  iii  one  -volume,  clotli.    Price  $1.25  a  copy. 

Read  the  following  Reviews  of  it,  written  by  two  celebrated  Critics. 

T.  B.  PETERSON  has  just  published  this  celebrated  work,  whose  re- 
putation in  England  and  Germany  already  excels  that  of  any  novel 
written  since  the  days  of  Sir  Walter  Scott.  The  heroine,  Hildegarde, 
is  one  of  the  loveliest  creations  of  fiction.  From  the  first  moment  she 
appears  on  the  scene  to  the  final  termination  of  the  story,  she  engrosses 
the  entire  sympathies  of  the  reader,  who  breathlessly  follows  her  fluctu- 
ating fortunes,  the  alienation  of  her  lover,  and  her  heroic  sacrifice  of 
herself.  The  "Initials"  is  one  of  those  rare  things,  a  love-story  true 
to  life;  for  while  there  is  nothing  mawkishly  sentimental  about  it,  it 
fairly  runs  over  with  the  poetry  of  youth  and  romance.  As  a  picture  of 
social  life  in  Germany,  it  is  invaluable.  Nobody  but  one  who  had  lived 
for  years  in  that  country  could  have  drawn  the  manners,  habits,  and  cus- 
toms of  the  Germans  so  faithfully.  The  "Initials"  is  destined  to  become 
a  standard  work,  and  will  be  read  long  after  the  ephemeral  fictions  of  the 
day  are  forgotten ;  for  while  it  equals  them  in  the  absorbing  character 
of  its  incidents,  it  excels  them  immeasurably  in  chasteness  of  style, 
purity  of  morals,  and  fidelity  to  nature.  The  author  is  a  lady  of  high 
rank  in  both  England  and  Germany,  being  the  daughter  of  a  Lord  High 
Chancellor  of  Great  Britain,  and  the  wife  of  a  German  nobleman. 

"  This  is  one  of  those  novels  which  will  continue  to  be  read,  like  those 
of  Scott,  and  other  great  masters  of  fiction,  long  after  the  generation 
which  saw  it  first  has  mouldered  in  the  dust.  The  scene  is  laid  in  Ger- 
many. The  fair  author  is  a  daughter  of  the  celebrated  Lord  Erskine, 
formerly  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  England.  Educated  in  Great  Britain, 
but  since  her  marriage  to  a  German  nobleman,  living  on  the  continent, 
she  depicts  life  in  Germany  with  rare  fidelity,  though  without  falling  into 
that  mawkish  sentimentalism  which  is  the  fault  of  native-born  novelists. 
In  the  whole  realm  of  modern  fiction  there  is  not  a  more  lovely  creation 
than  Hildegarde,  the  heroine.  Her  conduct  under  the  most  trying  cir- 
cumstances, is  ever  noble ;  but  ever  also  natural  to  her  character.  The 
charm  of  this  novel,  indeed,  is  that  while  it  has  nothing  forced  or  exag- 
gerated about  it,  it  is  nevertheless  full  of  romance.  Everything  happens 
as  it  ought  to  happen,  yet  the  incidents  are  never  strained,  nor  the  actors 
made  to  belie  their  natures.  To  read  'The  Initials'  is  to  call  back  the 
days  of  one's  youth,  when  the  future  was  rosy  with  hope,  and  when  all 
things  were  fresh  and  beautiful.  The  work  is  eminently  instructive.  It 
has  already  run  through  several  editions  in  England,  and  is  destined,  we 
predict,  to  have  an  unparalleled  sale  here.  We  know  no  fiction,  in  fact, 
which  we  would  sooner  recommend,  for  while  it  will  fascinate  all  who 
read  merely  for  amusement,  it  will  delight  as  well  as  improve  those  who 
seek  for  something  even  in  a  novel." — Ladies'  National  Magazine. 

Copies  of  either  edition  of  the  work  will  be  sent  to  any  person,  to  any 
part  of  the  United  States,  free  of  postage,  on  their  remitting  the  price  of 
the  edition  they  may  wish,  to  the  publisher,  in  a  letter,  post-paid. 
Published  and  for  sale  by  T.  B.  PETERSON, 

(69)  No.  10«  Chestnut  St.,  Philadelphia., 


KATE    AYLESFORD, 

BY  CHARLES  J.  PETERSON. 

Complete  in  one  large  ,  olume,  neatly  bound  in  cloth,  for  One  Dollar 

aud  Twenty-Five  C'en's;  or  another  edition,  iu  two 

volumes,  paper  cover,  for  One  Dollar. 


OPINIONS   OF   THE   PRESS. 

"One  of  the  great  beauties  of  the  story  is,  the  characters  are  never  unnatural  nor  the 
incidents  improbable.  Yet  we  know  no  American  novelist  who  has  a  stronger  power  ef 
holding  his  reader  enchained  by  the  stirring  aud  life-like  incidents  of  the  narrative,  OP- 
who  can  individualize  his  characters  more  distinctly.  The  latter  are  real  persons,  acting 
naturally  and  properly.  Every  scene  is  painted  vividly  and  graphically,  and  the  reader 
seems  moving  among  living  persons  and  a  spectator  of  scenes  of  ac'ual  occurrence.  It  is 
on  all  hands  pronounced  the  ablest  original  novel  published  for  many  years,  and  justly 
places  its  author  at  the  very  head  of  the  popular  romance  writers  of  the  day  in  this  country. 
This  is  Faying  a  good  deal,  but  we  think  the  public,  on  the  perusal  of  the  story,  will  agree 
with  us  that  our  commendation  is  not  exaggerated." — Philadelphia  Public  Ledger. 

"The  heroine  is  one  of  those  rare  characters,  sometimes  met  with  in  the  practical  world, 
who  combine  all  the  womanly  virtues,  to  be  found  in  the  highest  degrees  of  life,  with  that 
moral  courage  and  bravery  so  often  brought  forth  in  the  trying  times  which  preceded  Ihe 
independence  of  the  country.  The  '  Uncle  Lawrence*  of  the  author  is  a  most  charming 
specimen  of  the  yeomanry  of  the  olden  time.  '  Kate  Aylesford'  is  a  book  well  worthy  to 
be  read  by  all  lovers  of  light  reading.  With  the  ladies  it  must  become  very  popular." — 
Philadelphia  Daily  News. 

"This  is  one  of  the  very  few  historical  romances  of  the  age  which  lay  claim  to  success. 
The  story  has  been  carefully  planned,  and  in  like  manner  developed.  The  style  is  simple, 
unstrained,  natural  and  pleasing.  Mr.  Peterson  deserves  all  praise  for  his  manly  conU-mpt 
of  the  transcendentalisms  and  milk-and-waterisms  of  the  time,  and  for  his  daring  to  be  go 
natural."— Hunterdon  (N.  J.)  Gazette. 

"  This  work  is  the  best  historical  novel  ever  written  in  this  country." — Christian  Observer. 

"In  literary  merit  generally,  but  especially  in  elegant  use  of  language,  and  delineation 
of  female  character,  it  exceeds  either  the  Spy,  Water  Witch,  or  any  of  the  Leather  Stock- 
ing Stories." — Philadelphia  Sun. 

"  Sure  of  an  enduring  popularity." — BMimore  Sun. 

"Mr.  Peterson  is  fast  gaining  on  the  laurels  of  Irving." — New  York  Dutchman. 

"Kate  Aylesford  is  worth  a  hecatomb  of  Ruth  Halls." — Baltimore  Argus. 

"The  scenes  are  portrayed  in  a  powerful  '-manner,  and  the  whole  story  invested  with 
thrilling  interest." — Baltimore  Dispatch. 

"  Abounding  with  adventures  of  the  most  exciting  character." — Bostm  Timet. 

"  The  heroine  is  a  trump  of  a  girl."— Boston  Pott. 

"  The  most  interesting  and  elegantly  written  novel  of  the  day."— Jersey  Blue. 

"A story  of  thrilling  interest" — Pitisburg  Cninmercial. 

"  Those  who  read  it  can  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  while  they  are  deeply 
interested,  the  attraction  is  not  only  harmless  but  healthy." — Gospel  Banner. 

"Free  from  the  sickly  sentimentalism  so  common  to  works  of  this  kind." — True  American. 

"A  work  of  genuine  value." — Lincoln  Democrat. 

"If  you  wish  to  read  a  thrilling  story,  absorbingly  interesting,  and  at  the  same  time  in 
no  degree  overstrained  or  unnatural,  got  Kate  Aylesford.  It  reminds  us  of  the  best  of 
Cooper's  novels,  and  it  is  free  from  faults  which  they  abound  in." — Piedmont  (Fa.)  Whig. 

rrice  for  the  complete  work,  in  two  volumes  in  paper  cover,  One  Dollar  only;  or  another 
edition,  handsomely  bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  gilt,  is  published  for  One  Dollar  and 
Twenty-Five  Cents. 

Copies  of  either  edition  of  the  work  will  be  sent  to  any  person,  to  any  part  of  the  United 
States,  free  of  postage,  on  their  remitting  the  price  of  the  edition  they  may  wish,  to  the 
publisher,  in  a  letter,  post-paid. 

Published  and  for  sale  by  T.    B.    PETERSON, 

No.  103  Chestnut  Street.  Philadelphia. 


GREAT  INDUCEMENTS  JOEJ856[ 

NOW  IS  TH£llME  TO  MAKE  IIP  CLUBS! 

PETERSONS  MAGAZINE 

The  best  and  cheapest  in  the  World  for  Ladies. 


This  popular  Magazine,  already  the  cheapest  and  best  Monthly  of  its  kind  in  the  world, 
will  lie  yreat'y  ini/rrcrved  for  1  ."  66.  It  will  contain  900  pages  of  double-column  reading 
mutter;  from  twenty  to  thirty  Steel  Plates;  and  over  four  hundred  Wood  Engravings: 
which  is  proportionately  more  than  any  periodical,  of  any  price,  ever  yet  gave. 

ITS    THRILLMTG    ORIGIJT^tL,    STORIES 

Are  pronounced,  by  the  press,  the  best  published  anywhere.  The  editors  are  Mrs.  Ann  S. 
Stephens,  au!  hor  of  "  The  Old  Homestead."  "  Fashion  and  Famine,"  and  Charles  J.  Peter- 
son,  author  of  '•  Kate  Aylesford."  '•  The  Valley  Farm,"  etc.,  etc.  ;  and  they  are  assisted  by 
all  the  most  popular  female  writers  of  America.  New  talent  is  continually  being  added, 
regard  ess  of  expense,  so  as  to  keep  "  Peterson's  Magazine"  unapproachable  in  merit. 
Morality  aud  virtue  are  always  inculcated. 

ITS  COLORED  FASHION  PLATES  IN  ADVANCE, 

^5S~  It  is  tJie  only  Mtiyazine  whose  Fashion  Plates  can  be  relied  on.  "fSJJ 

Each  Number  contains  a  Fashion  Plate,  engraved  on  Steel,  colored  a  la  mode,  and  of 
unrivalled  beauty.  The  Paris,  London,  Philadelphia,  and  New  York  Fashions  a^e  de- 
scribed, at  length.  each  month.  Every  number  also  contains  a  dozen  or  more  New  Styles, 
engraved  on  Wood.  Also,  a  Pattern,  from  which  a  dress,  mantilla,  or  child's  costume, 
can  be  cut,  without  the  aid  of  a  mautua-maker,  so  that  each  number,  in  this  way,  will 
save  «  year  s  subscription. 


snprrli  Btyjotiuts,  irafr  ntjjrr  Ifel 


Its  Illustrations  excel  those  of  any  other  Magazine,  each  number  containing  a  superb 
Fti'i'l  Kngraving,  cither  mezzotint  or  line,  beside  the  Fashion  Plate;  and,  in  addition, 
numerous  other  Engravings,  Wood  Cuts,  Patterns,  &c.,  &c.  The  Engravings,  at  the  end 
of  the  year,  a/rme  are  worth  the  subscription  price. 

PATTERNS  FOR  CROTCHET,  NEEDLEWORK,  etc., 

In  the  greatest  profusion,  are  gh  >n  in  every  number,  with  instructions  how  to  work 
them ;  also,  Patterns  in  Embroidery,  Inserting,  Broiderie  Anglaise,  Netting.  Lace-making, 
&c..  &c.  Also.  Patterns  for  Sleeves,  Collars,  aud  Chemisettes ;  Patterns  in  Bead-work,  Hair- 
work,  Shell-work  ;  Handkerchief  Corners;  Names  for  Marking  and  Initials.  Each  num- 
ber contains  a  Paper  Flower,  with  directions  how  to  make  it.  A  piece  of  new  and  fashion- 
able Music  is  also  published  every  month.  On  the  whole,  it  is  the  most  complete  Ladies' 
Magazine  in  the  World.  TRY  IT  FOR  ONE  YEAR. 

TERMS: —  ALWAYS  IN  ADVANCE. 

One  copy  for  One  Year,      -  $2  00 
Ihree  copies  for  One  Year,      5  00 

Sixteen  copies  for  One  Year,     ...    $20  00 

PREMIUMS  FOR  GUTTING  UP  CLUBS. 

Three,  Five,  Eight,  or  Sixteen  copies,  make  a  Club.  To  every  person  getting  up  a  Club, 
our  "  Port-Folio  of  Art,"  containing  Fifty  Engravings,  will  be  given  gratis;  or,  if  pre- 
ferred, a  copy  of  the  Magazine  for  1855.  For  a  Club  of  Sixteen,  an  extra  copy  of  the 
Magazine  for  18ot?,  will  be  sent  in  addition. 

Address,  post-paid,  CHARLES    J.   PETERSON, 

No.  102  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia. 

Kg"  Specimens  sent  gratuitously,  if  written  for,  post-paid. 

4Hf  All  Postmasters  constituted  Agents.    But  any  person  may  get  up  a  Club. 

«£~  1'ersons  retnilting  will  please  get  the  Postmaster  to  register  their  letters,  in  which 
case  the  remittance  may  be  at  our  risk.  When  the  sum  is  large,  a  draft  should  be  pro- 
cured, the  cost  of  which  may  be  deducted  from  the  amount. 


Five  copies  for  One  Year,   -  $7  50 
Eight  copies  for  One  Year,    10  00 


T.  B.  PETERSON'S 

WHOLESALE  AND  RETAIL 
Cheap  Book,  Magazine,  Newspaper,  Publishing 

and  Bookselling  Establishment,  is  at 
No.   1O2   Chestnut   Street,  Philadelphia. 


T.  B.  PETERSON  has  the  satisfaction  to  announce  to  the  public,  that  he  has  removed 
to  the  new  and  spacious  BROWN  STONE  BUILDING,  NO.  102  CHESTNUT  STREET, 
just  completed  by  the  city  authorities  on  the  Girard  Estate,  known  as  the  most  central 
and  best  situation  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia.  As  it  is  the  Model  Book  Store  of  the 
Country,  we  will  describe  it:  It  is  the  largest,  most  spacious,  and  best  arranged  Retail 
and  Wholesale  Cheap  Book  and  Publishing  Establishment  in  the  United  States.  It  is 
built,  by  the  Girard  Estate,  of  Connecticut  sand-stone,  in  a  richly  ornamental  style. 
The  whole  front  of  the  lower  story,  except  that  taken  up  by  the  doorway,  is  occupied  by 
two  large  plate  glass  windows,  a  single  plate  to  each  window,  costing  together  over  three 
thousand  dollars.  On  entering  and  looking  up,  you  find  above  you  a  ceiling  sixteen 
teet  high ;  while,  on  gazing  before,  you  perceive  a  vista  of  One  Hundred  and  Fifty  Seven 
feet.  The  retail  counters  ex  tend  back  for  eighty  feet,  and,  being  double,  afford  counter- 
room  of  One  Hundred  and  Sixty  feet  in  length.  There  is  also  over  Three  Thousand  feet 
of  shelving  in  the  retail  part  of  the  store  alone.  This  part  is  devoted  to  the  retail  busi- 
ness, and  A*  it  is  the  most  .spacious  in  the  country,  furnishes  also  the  best  and  large*  t 
assortment  of  all  kinds  of  books  to  be  found  in  the  country.  It  is  fitted  up  in  the  moa' 
superb  style ;  the  shelvings  are  all  painted  in  Florence  white,  with  gilded  cornices  fo, 
the  book  shelves. 

Behind  the  retail  part  of  the  store,  at  about  ninety  feet  from  the  entrance,  is  On- 
counting-room,  twenty  feet  square,  railed  neatly  off,  and  surmounted  by  a  most  beauti- 
ful dome  of  stained  glass.  In  the  rear  of  this  is  the  wholesale  and  packing  departure!' 
extending  a  further  distance  of  about  sixty  feet,  with  desks  and  packing  counters  for  the 
establishment,  etc.,  etc.  All  goods  are  received  and  shipped  from  the  back  of  the  store, 
having  a  lit*  avenue  on  the  side  of  Girard  Bank  for  the  purpose,  leading  out  to  Third 
Street,  so  as  not  to  interfere  with  and  block  up  the  front  of  the  store  on  Chestnut  .Street. 
The  cellar,  of  the  entire  depth  of  the  store,  is  filled  with  printed  copies  of  Mr.  Peterson's 
own  publications,  printed  from  his  own  stereotype  plates,  of  which  he  generally  keeps 
on  hand  an  edition  of  a  thousand  each,  making  a  stock,  of  his  own  publications  alono, 
of  over  three  hundred  thousand  volumes,  constantly  on  band. 

T.  B.  PETERSON  is  warranted  in  saying,  that  he  is  able  to  offer  such  inducements 
to  the  Trade,  and  all  others,  to  favor  him  with  their  orders,  as  cannot  be  excelled  by  any 
book  establishment  in  the  country.  In  proof  of  this,  T.  B.  PETERSON  begf  leave  to 
refer  to  his  great  facilities  of  getting  stock  of  all  kinds,  his  dealing  direct  with  all  the 
Publ^hing  Houses  in  the  country,  and  also  to  bis  own  long  list  of  Publications,  consisting 
of  the  best  and  most  popular  productions  of  the  most  talented  authors  of  the  United 
States  and  Great  Britain,  and  to  his  very  extensive  stock,  embracing  every  work,  new  or 
old,  published  in  the  United  States. 

T.  B.  PETERSON  will  be  most  happy  to  supply  all  orders  for  any  books  at  all.  no 
matter  by  whom  published,  in  advance  of  all  others,  and  at  publishers'  lowest  cash 
prices.  lie  respectfully  invites  Country  Merchants,  Booksellers,  Pedlars,  Canvassers, 
Agents,  the  Trade,  Strangers  in  the  city,  and  the  public  generally,  to  call  and  examinu 
his  extensive  collection  of  cheap  and  standard  publications  of  all  kinds,  comprising  a 
most  magnificent  collection  of  CHEAP  BOOKS,  MAGAZINES,  NOVELS,  STANDARD 
and  POPULAR  WORKS  of  all  kinds,  BIBLES,  PRAYER  HOOKS,  ANNUALS,  (JUT 
BOOKS,  ILLUSTRATED  WORKS,  ALBUMS  and  JUVENILE  WORKS  of  all  kinds, 
(JAMES  of  all.  kind*,  to  suit  all  ages,  tastes,  etc.,  which  he  is  selling  to  his  customers 
and  the  public  at  much  lower  prices  than  they  can  be  purchased  elsewhere.  Being  lo- 
cated at  No.  102  CHESTNUT  Street,  the  great  thoroughfare  of  the  city,  and  BUY1.M! 
his  stock  outright  in  large  quantities,  and  not  selling  on  commission,  he  can  and  will 
Bell  them  on  such  terms  as  will  defy  all  competition.  Gall  and  examine  our  stock,  you 
will  find  it  to  he  the  best,  largest  and  cheapest  in  the  city ;  and  you  will  also  be  sure  to 
find  all  the  best,  latest,  popular,  and  cheapest  wvrks  published  in  this  country  or  else- 
where, for  sale  at  the  lowest  prices. 

9y  Call  in  person  and  examine  our  stock,  or  send  your  orders  by  mail  direct,  to  th« 
CHKAP  BOOKSELLING  and  PUBLISHING  ESTABLISHMENT  of 

T.  B.  PETERSON, 
57  No.  10a  Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia, 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


NON-NWRLE 

1998 


(0-JO^ 

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